


Trapped Seeing Purple

by Fallencellist



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: AU, Fazbear Entertainment, Freddy Fazbear's, Future, freddy fazbear's pizzeria
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-12 22:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 30
Words: 84,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5682538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallencellist/pseuds/Fallencellist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years after the events of the Fazbear Fright Attraction the franchise is reopened by two friends, Tim and Jean, and they plan on bringing back everything from the past, minus the murders. A young man by the name of Vincent Valenteno joins the new Fazbear crew as a manager, but a horror from his past comes back to haunt him, and things get dangerous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It Begins

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Welcome to the first part of Trapped Seeing Purple, my Five Nights at Freddy's story! This is just a blip of what I have done at this moment (over 15 pages and 11.4k words done) but I want to see how people react to the writing before I post any more. Please let me know what you guys think about it once you finish reading in a comment, and leave a kudos to let me know if you liked it or not, and even share it around with your friends!
> 
> If your interested in learning more about the AU let me know in comments, message me, or you can head over to my Deviantart Page (Fallencellist.devaintart.com) for an easier way to message me (I check it more often) as well as you can go there to find pictures of characters and concepts! But I get off track, please enjoy the first part of Trapped Seeing Purple!

“Hey!” A small voice seeped into his sleeping mind, a small finger jabbing him in the stomach, “Uncle Vinc,” The voice continued on, poking him every other second, “wake up!” 

The gears in his mind began to turn, his blue eyes starting to open slowly, “Huh...” he moaned a bit, rubbing a closed hand against his left eye, trying to rub away the sleep clinging to his body, “Wha?” His eyes focused on the child standing next to his bed. 

The long-ish messy black haired kid stared at him with wide green eyes, “You look like you just raised from the dead.” 

Vincent chuckled, grabbing up the kid standing next to the bed, pulling him under the covers, and in a low dull, moaning voice simply drew out the word, “Braaainssss...” Playfully grabbing the kids head and booping his open mouth against it, he leaned forward, curling his body around the boy. 

“Ahhh,” The kid had to stop himself from giggling instead of pretending to scream out, “Not my brains!” The small hands grabbed onto either side of his face and tried to pull him away. 

Finally Vinc let go, pulling him into a tight hug, the kid's face stuffed into his shirt, “You're mine now, kid!” He laughed, getting a muffled response from him. 

Letting go, the kid smiled up to his uncle, sitting down in his lap facing towards him, “You always do that!” The kid huffed, crossing his small arms over his chest in a pouting fashion. 

Vincent laughed a bit, stretching out his arms, letting out a big yawn as he did so, “And yet,” He grinned, poking the kid on the nose, “You still fall for it every time.” 

“I'll learn one day!” The kid pouted, looking up to his uncle with the innocent green eyes, “Hey,” he titled his tiny head, some of the locks of black hair falling onto his face. The young boy blew a couple strands out of his eyes, “Did you have another nightmare?” 

“Eh,” Vinc shrugged his shoulders, “It wasn't that bad of a nightmare. Nothing like what I had before, luckily. This one was pretty tame, just a bit of mocking and keeping its distance.” 

The kid frowned a bit, deciding if he wanted to inquire about the dream. The mouth opened, but closed quickly when he heared a scratching noise coming from the hallway. The green eyes shot to Vincent looking a bit scared, “What's that?!” 

“Maybe,” Vinc grinned slightly deviously, raising his hands above his head, “It's the Springtrap wanting inside because it smells your innocence!” Then he dived in, tickling the kid from head to toe, the room filling with pleas for him to stop broken with fits of laughing. 

“Uncle Vinc,” the kid cried out between bursts of laugh, “S-stop! It-hehe, it feels hehe we- hehe-weird!” Finally after nearly falling off the bed, Vinc let go of his nephew, the boy laying down on the bed, his breath heavy. 

Slipping from under the sheets, Vincent stood up, glancing over to the kid, “Once you recover Sebastian, come to the kitchen. I'll hopefully have waffles started cooking by the time you get your butt out," he added as he went to the door, "And take a quick shower." 

“Waffles!” Seb cheered, throwing his hands up in the air in victory, “Yes!” The kid's brain brushing over the request to take a shower. 

Stepping out the door Vinc was met with a demanding “meow” from one of the neighborhood cats that had gotten into his home, “Oh hey there little guy.” He smiled, offering out his hand to the cat. The gray tabby sniffed at his hand before roughly bumping its head into it, “I know what you want.” He hummed, picking up the cat, getting a slightly objective merow from it. With a cat in hand, Vinc moved to the kitchen through the short hallway. 

The apartment he lived it was a cozy place: three bedrooms, two baths, and the kitchen was joined together with the living room. An island counter with two red bar stools on the side opposite of the kitchen divided the two rooms. The counter tops were dark black granite speckled with white and gold flecks, each cabinet painted to be a slate white, with the handles a sparkling gold. Between two counter tops the fridge was stainless steel similar to all the other appliances in the kitchen, the stove situated to the right of the fridge. Above the sink was a large dark wooden framed window opening up to the world outside the one floor apartment complex. The floor was a polished black stained wood, why the backsplash was a mosaic of gray tiles. Adjacent to the wall that had the fridge was a two door pantry where most of the dry ingredients were kept for preparing food. 

Across the kitchen was the living room. Tucked into a back area of the room was a brown leather couch positioned on the right side of the room. Across from it was a two foot high cabinet system with three set drawers, a plasma TV hanging above it with racks holding various DvDs and CDs on either side of the screen that he owned (all kid friendly besides the various horror movies he owned along with some heavy metal CDs). At the back end of the room was a large window with a bench positioned right below the red curtains as a seating area when staring aimlessly into the world outside of the glass. 

Vinc sat the cat down on top of the counter top, moving to the fridge where he kept an open, half used can of cat food just for an occasion like this one. Paws pattered against the cold granite, pacing as it waited for the food to emerge from the confines of the fridge. Once the cat heard the sound of the bag opening, it quickly jumped across the sink on top of the stove, staring at the food with wide blue eyes. As the smell seeped from the opening of the bag Vinc held back a grimace, “Hmmm, I think this is on its last leg.” Turning to one of the upper cabinets, the man pulled out a small plate, setting it on the island counter. He didn't bother much to put the cat food onto a plate, letting it hit to ceramic surface with a splat. 

“That didn't sound very appetizing...” Vinc stuck out his tongue, opening a cabinet door below to sink to throw the now empty can into the recycle bin. Only a few seconds after the food hit the plate, the cat had shoved its gray face into the mess of the wet cat food, “Now to make my own food.” He let out a heavy sigh as he stood up. A quickly glance to the cat--as well as a pet--he moved back to the fridge, getting out the refrigerated ingredients to make waffles. Placing each one onto the counter he moved to the pantry, pulling out the rest of the ingredients. 

Within minutes the batter was created and bits were inside of the waffle iron cooking to perfection. Vinc let out another heavy sigh, rubbing his eyes again-- it was always hard for him to wake up in the morning, and today was a very important day to be as awake as possible. 

He sauntered over to the front door, opening it up to see the newspaper waiting at his porch for him, “Ah, on time.” Giving a small wave to the paper boy just a few doors down he picked up the paper, returning inside, “Today's going to be interesting...” the paper was placed onto the counter top before he went to take out the waffle, the air filled with the delicious aroma. Vinc often didn't read the full paper, never interested in knowing exactly what was going on in the world--like what was going on for sports or the classifieds, and only on occasion would he look at the stocks and business section. 

“Waffles!” Seb suddenly cheered out as he charged out of the bathroom, his hair wet and only wearing clean pants why his shirt waved helpless at the kid ran. He jumped up onto the bar stool closest to the hallway he had just appeared from, staring excitedly at the plate of freshly cooked waffles. 

Vinc chuckled, throwing a waffle onto a plate before placing it in front of the kid, “Don't eat it all at-” before he could finish, Seb was already ripping at the poor waffle shoving it into his mouth, “Seb! Chew for love of everything!” 

After a glare the boy put down the parts of what was left of the waffle onto the plate, “Sorry,” was barely audible from all the waffle pieces in his mouth. 

“Pace yourself but don't take too long,” Vince unplugged the waffle iron, putting the rest of the batter into a container to put into the fridge. He shooed the gray tabby away from the plate of waffles, “I'm going to drop you off at school a bit early today.” 

A groan came from Seb, “Ughhhhh why Uncle Vinc?” 

Vincent placed the batter into the fridge then grabbed himself a waffle, taking a bit out of it, “Well,” He chewed on the waffle a few bites before swallowing, “I've got an interview today and I don't want to be late for it.” He took another bite out of the waffle. 

“An interview? For a job?” Vinc nodded to the question, “But Uncle Vinc,” Seb stood up on the rim of the bar stool, “Why do you need a job when Grandma and Grandpa pay for the rent and bills?” 

The young adult smiled a bit, eating the last bit of waffle he had, “Because, I don't want to be depending on them for the rest of their lives. And,” He had to stop himself from frowning, “The money they give is for you. If you weren't here I'd probably be living on the streets.” 

“I don't understand why Grandma and Grandpa don't seem to like you,” Seb frowned, sitting back down on the stool, “You're one of their kids...” 

Vinc couldn't stop the frown from forming on his face this time, moving from one side of the counter to sit on the stool next to the kid, “It's really hard to explain,” He put a hand on Seb's back rubbing it gently in comforting circles, “It's kind of like what happened with your parents, but nobody ever got me out of that situation." 

Seb glanced to his uncle, “You mean Grandpa drank a lot and beat Grandma?” 

Vinc shook his head in response, “Nah, Grandpa Allen found other ways to take out his frustrations. I was born much later than your mother and Uncle Victor, so he was pretty well on in age when I was born.” 

“Uncle Victor is old and grumpy,” Seb stuck out his tongue, Vinc burst into a quick fit of laughter. 

“Yeah,” Vinc giggled, holding his stomach, “Uncle Victor is pretty grumpy.” 

Seb smiled, “And old.” 

Vinc nodded in return, “And old.” He was happy to get the conversation away from his past: Sebastian knew some details about the relationship between Vinc and his parents, but didn't know the nitty gritty details. As far as Vincent was concerned, the kid wouldn't find out until he was much older. 

Vinc took the plate from in front of Seb, near tossing it into the sink, “Get dressed for school you scamp, I need to get changed into something-” he glanced to his pajama shirt that was covered in flour, bits of vanilla extract and some batter, “Well cleaner and more professional.” Seb gave a nod to his uncle before bolting back into his bedroom, soon followed by Vinc who went into his own room, the two rooms right across the hallway from each other. 

It never occurred to Vinc until recently that most of his possessions were either colorless, red or purple. The walls of his room were painted a light lavender purple (not his first choice but that's the color the Land Lord would allow), why the carpet was a dark gray. The sheets on his queen sized bed were also purple, but much darker than the walls, almost the same purple-black as his hair. The dresser he had was a normal four drawer dresser situated in the right corner of the wall parallel to his bed. The closet was on a wall adjacent to the doorway, which he wandered over to, opening up the sliding doors, “Hmmm...” He glanced between the assortment of clothing he had; the clothing was nothing too fancy mostly just t-shirts and a few dress shirts, a polo shirt (which he despised wearing) that was stuffed all the way in the back, and a few jackets. Inside the closet as well was a few photo albums, some stuffed animals from his childhood, and a large hand crafted gun given to him as a graduation gift from his best friend's father. 

Giving up on finding anything really fancy he pulled out a light blue dress shirt, “Good enough,” then moved to the dresser, pulling out some black dress pants, throwing both pieces of clothing onto the bed, picking out a nice pair of black boots. He wanted to wear something a bit more fitting of a nice interview but the snow that was beginning to melt in the coming spring heat would ruin a good pair of shoes. 

Slipping off his pajama top he put on the dress shirt, followed by taking off the pajama bottoms, putting on the dress pants (of course after a new pair of underwear), then the black socks. As he was tying up his boots, Seb burst into the room, completely dressed for school, backpack on his shoulders, shoes untied, “Ready!” 

Vinc glanced up slightly, “Tie the shoes.” The kid's cheeks went red with embarrassment before crouching down to tie them. Vincent stood up, adjusting the dress shirt, a few seconds later Seb stood up as well, giving his uncle a thumbs up, “Heh,” he shook his head at the kid, “Come on let's get you to school.” 

_______________________________________________________________ 

“So,” Seb glanced over to Vinc from the passenger seat in the car as they began down the road to his school, “Where's the job interview at?” 

Vinc took a quick look to Seb before focusing back on the road, “I told you, it's a secret.” 

The boy next to him pouted, “But I want to know!” 

“You'll have to wait. If I get the job I'll start working in a few days. They're still working on getting the place up and running so it's not officially open yet.” Vinc clicked on his turn indicator, “But I have a good feeling about it.” A moment later he turned down the next street, inching closer to dropping Sebastian off to the hell known as elementary school. 

Seb frowned, crossing his arms across his chest, “But I want to know now...” 

Vincent sighed, shaking his head, “I know, I know. You're not a huge fan of waiting. Trust me," He grinned, “I think it's a family trait not being able to wait.” 

“And rhyme,” Seb added in. 

“Yeah,” Vinc had to stop himself from rolling his eyes, “And rhyming.” 

Only a few blocks away from the school Vincent's attention was caught by a huddled mass near by an old deli and a barber shop. He could remember seeing the small mass other times curled in a tight ball trying to stay warm. Though the city he lived in was small and tight-knit, there were still the occasional homeless person begging for change or food. This one deeply hurt his heart to look at: since the day he had came back into town there was this small child, hiding her body away from the harsh world in rags, her face always hidden from the streets. 

A nagging feeling would tug at him each day he would see her there. Something was telling him that she needed help, and he may be the only one to be able to give it to her. For now, he swallowed back the feeling--he had to get Seb to school and get to the interview. 

“See you after school,” Vinc unlocked the door as he pulled up in front of the school, looking over to Seb, “Be good.” The boy gave a quick devious grin to his uncle, then pulled himself out the door. Waving over his shoulder Seb vanished into the sea of other small children heading in to begin their day of learning. Vincent let out a sigh, pulling out of the school parking lot; it was now time to see if he would be joining the Fazbear crew of employees.


	2. The Interview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interviews are always nerve breaking, right?

Vinc entered into the parking lot of a large newer looking building, a sign laying next to the stone walls. Pulling into a parking spot he turned off the engine, pocketing his keys. He sat in his car for a few seconds, breathing in deeply and exhaling slowly, “Okay, you can do this Vincent,” he glanced to the small figurine he kept on the dashboard, or more glued to it thanks to a younger Seb: it was a cute looking red colored fox with a yellow eye and eyepatch, “Wish me luck captain.” He gave a small salute to the fox before heaving himself out of the car. With another set of deep breaths he made his way into to the building. 

Upon entering, Vincent could feel nostalgia rushing to him, nearly knocking his socks off--though the nostalgia wasn't his own. 

The place was decorated with long tables, party hats sitting atop each one about a foot apart of various colors ranging from solid red to all the colors of the rainbow. There was six chairs to each length of table. Each table was covered with white table cloths patterned with colorful blue, red and yellow confetti. Near the door was a large elaborate stage with two large plasma TV screens on either side of the stage--probably to help the kids farther away to be able to see what was going on. On the same wall as the stage was two sets of doors: one led to a place Vincent couldn't see--or knew where it lead, and the two swinging doors lead into the currently silent kitchen. The adjacent wall had another door and beside that was three soda dispensers on a long length of counter tops. Between each soda machine was a holder for the lids and dispensers for napkins and straws. 

To the right of the entrance was the lines of tables and behind that was a large arched opening leading to a slightly smaller room, a long flat counter with it's body glass to reveal the various trinkets and prizes that could be traded for and behind that on the wall was much larger prizes that could be claimed. In the back of that room was something that made Vinc feel a bit giddy on the inside: it looked like a real life pirate ship—or at least what would be a pirate ship, at the time it was more like parts of a smaller pirate ship. Once fully built, children could climb aboard and play with the star of the Cove. Separating the two rooms was a violet curtain patterned with stars, something that was fondly remembered by many. 

In the back right corner was a hallway most likely leading to the offices, employee lounge and other places, characterized by the sign hanging above the hall reading “Employees Only.” 

“Welcome everyone!” A near sickening cheerful voice called out as two figures came out from the back hallway, “Thank you all for coming for the interviews today!” The one talking was thinner than the other, his bright blond hair an obviously noticeable trait, his green eyes bright, “Hopefully the construction didn't get in the way too bad.” He grinned a cheerful grin, “My name is Jean and this is may life long friend, Tim.” 

The other next to him waved in a spastic fashion, “Hi!” Tim was only a few inches taller than his friend, and he had short brown hair with light brown eyes, “We are going to be your bosses in the future!” 

Vinc had to cringe a bit at the energy and enthusiasm the two had. It was uplifting but it was scary at the same time, _How can they be that happy all the time?_

He shook his head focusing back in on what they were saying, introducing somebody who he didn't see in the crowd, “If you find somebody who looks like me, but with golden eyes, that is my brother Demetri.” Jean glanced around to look for the one he was talking about, “He must be working on the main attractions, but anyways,” he focused back on the people in front of him, “He's the tech guy, not the funnest person to be around though,” Jean lowered his voice, “He's a bit of a psychopath.” 

“Sociopath,” An annoyed tone came from the room behind the violet stared curtains, “There is a difference you ignoramus.” Vince caught a quick glimpse of the person who was talking, a man of the same height at Jean, but held himself in a more empty stance, his eyes golden and half open as he opened the curtains enough so his face was half visible, “Sociopaths can't feel emotions.” With that he returned back behind the curtains. 

“Yeah...” Jean trailed off, then picked up again, “That's Demetri! Anyways,” he waved his hands in a dismissive manner, “We'll be starting off the interviews immediately! We'll be calling out your names by the order you applied and will take you to our office to begin the interviews. We'll be starting with...” he took out a clipboard and narrowed his eyes to read the name, “Bob Beginzi.” A larger man from the crowd stepped forward and followed the two into the back. 

“Ugh,” Vinc glanced over hearing the disgusted sound of a female voice, “Bob is here?” 

He couldn't help but snort at the comment, “You know him?” 

The female near him was only a few inches shorter than him, looking to be a few years younger, her hair was shoulder length colored black with a few streaks of purple and yellow, “Sadly yeah.” She put a hand on her cocked hip, “He worked at the same place I did before: Got fired for harassing the other employees.” 

“Yeesh,” Vincent grimaced, “That's going to suck if he gets a job here.” 

The woman shrugged, looking at her black painted nails, “He only got that way because he was the highest position. When he wasn't the bastard mostly kept to himself.” 

Vinc nodded slowly, making a mental note to be cautious around this Bob Beginzi guy, “Noted.” 

The woman cleared her throat, running her tongue over her snake bites, “Name's Alice by the way. Alice Heingen.” 

“Vincent Valenteno.” He smiled back to her. 

The look she gave him made his stomach churn, “You mean Valenteno, like that obnoxious Victoria Valenteno?” 

She knew of her, causing him to give a deep frown, “Yeah, sadly.” 

“Sadly?” Alice raised an eyebrow, “You don't like her?” He responded with a shake of his head no, “Oh good!” The sudden change of her voice shocked Vincent, “I hate that lady. I went to her when I was a few years younger after some incidents happened with a few of my friends, and she kept accusing me of wanting to have sexual interactions with my parents instead of helping me with the actual problem!" 

“Yup...” Vincent sighed, wanting to hide his face, “That would be my Freudian stuck mother,” He looked towards the room where Demetri was working, “She's a big enemy against the work one of the bosses does in his normal job: using technology to grow new organs or even limbs.” 

Alice rolled her eyes, “Pffft, she's against almost anything, including progress with her patients.” 

Vinc chuckled, “Oh yeah.” He took another glance around the room, noticing the sheer amount of people. He decided that a change of subject was needed, “Jeez, lots of people here for interviews.” 

Alice shrugged next to him, “Everyone is probably going to get hired, the owners are filthy rich: the only reason they are opening this place is because they want to, and I quote 'rebuild the childhood.'” She created the quotation marks in the air with her fingers. 

She snorted, using a tone that had major sarcasm and distaste in it, “Let's remake something that has such a bad history of horror, death and murder.” 

“Well,” he laughed a bit, “Most of those things go together anyways. Can't have murder without death and a bit of horror.” 

She glanced to him, giving a slow approving nod, “Touche.” 

Their attention was pulled away when the two bosses came back out behind Bob, Tim speaking up this time, “Alice Heingen, you're next.” 

She glanced to Vincent then smiled, “Nice meeting you, see ya.” 

“See ya,” Vinc raised his hand in a shy good-bye as she sauntered over to Tim and Jean. He felt a warm feeling inside a small smile slipping onto his face: it was nice to finally talk to somebody around his own age that didn't look at him like he was some freak or look at him with such pity it made him sick. 

He had recently came back to the small town after moving away into the mountains with his parents when he was 16--after the events of The Fazbear Fright attraction. Despite his optimistic nature, not too many people wanted to talk to him, perhaps they could see the deep wounds inside his soul, the irrational fear he felt every day because of the abuse he had gotten from his parents every day of his life before he was finally able to escape them. 

Despite all this, Alice was one of the first few people to talk to him in a different setting than just picking up or dropping off their kid who was a friend of Sebastian's. 

Gazing around the room, something caught his attention from behind the stage curtain, something that was like a brown thick arm the other looking like a purple hip. Curiosity began to seep into his mind, pushing him to go investigate. _You were pretty late to apply_ , he mentally told himself, _you should have time to investigate_. 

Satisfied with his reasoning, he took a quick glance around before heading to the stage. He hoisted himself up onto the stage, voices coming from behind the red curtains, faint but there. As he moved closer the voices became clearer, sounding mechanical, “Huh?” 

He hushed his voice as he got even closer, hearing a voice that sounded exaggeratedly stupid and happy, “This feels a bit weird.” 

Then another voice, sounding similar to a mechanical version of a cheerful rock star, “I think it tingles, hehe. Doesn't my fur feel so soft? I'm glad they decided to give us fur instead of being that strange plastic as before." 

Vincent nearly had a heart attack when he felt eyes turn to him, “Oh,” The second voice sounded, and then something large and purple came in front of his view, “Hello there!” His blue eyes glanced up, focusing on the face of the purple being-- or in this case-- Machine. 

“Oh... dear... God,” He was barely able to let the words out as he stared at what was before him, “Bonnie!” His face lit up looking at the purple animantronic bunny, “It is actually you!” Vinc stood up to his full height his blue eyes glittering with excitement, then glanced over to the other two, “And Freddy and Chica! Crap, I think I am going to die from over excitement.” He put a hand over his mouth when the word close to what could be considered a curse word came out--especially for his vocabulary, “Oh, sorry.” He smiled sheepishly, lowering his hand. 

“It's alright.” Chica's voice had a chipper cheer to it, “Just don't say that around the kids.” 

Freddy nodded in response, “Yes, children shouldn't know such profanity, even if it's a weaker curse word.” 

“Of course,” Vincent turned his attention to Freddy, “I have a kid I take care of so I make sure to keep my vocabulary on a more PG level.” 

Bonnie's red eyes lit up, “You have a kid? Are they here?” The eyes glanced towards the crowd of people waiting around, scanning for any sight of a child. 

Vinc gave the animatronic bunny a sincere look, “He's at school right now. But I do plan on bringing him here,” then it sank in. He jumped a bit staring between the three, “Wait, you're holding a conversation with me?” 

“Yeah, neat isn't it?” Bonnie closed his eyes in a fashion to emulate joy, “Foxy's first mate developed some new technology that improved our functioning... stuff. I don't remember it all,” Bonnie itched his head on the left side of his head, right under his ear, “All I know is apparently we can feel emotions and carry out conversations.” 

“He added in some extra programming into our old mainframe,” Chica sighed at Bonnie, looking to Vinc, “We are now capable of hold conversations with children and adults as well as emulate human emotions.” 

“He?” Vinc raised an eyebrow, putting his balled hands onto his hips, “You mean Demetri?” 

Chica nodded to him, “Yup, that's him.” 

“Vincent Valenteno!” The voice of Jean called from the other side of the room, “You're next!” 

With those words Vinc snapped out of his excited state of mind, “Oh dear.” He turned to the curtains to leave, “I gotta go, but it was amazing to finally meet you guys.” Then dashed out from behind the curtains and over to where Tim and Jean were standing. 

“Sorry.” He huffed a bit out of breath from how quickly he bolted across the room. 

“Taking a sneak peek?” Tim's voice was a little less playful when he asked the question. 

Vinc, in response to the question stuttered, his face getting a slight tinge of red, “S-sorry. Something caught my attention, and I'm kind of like a cat: I see something shiny and I want to see it.” 

Bracing himself for scolding, he was only met with a bright smile from the two, “It's alright!” Jean giggled, patting Vincent on the shoulder, “You just got to see them sooner than everyone else. But tell me,” Jean leaned close to Vinc, lowering his voice, “Do they look okay? Like, I know my brother has the schematics of the old ones from our uncle, but I'm worried he may have made them creepy and crazy.” 

“What?” There was silence as he computed what Jean said. Vinc smiled trying not to laugh as he understood the concern, “Oh no, they're perfectly fine. Amazing actually!” The two men grinned, then signaled for him to follow them back to the office. 

In the employees only area there were five doors littering the hallway, one labeled “Supply Closet,” another labeled “Storage,” one “Employee Lounge,” and at the end of the corridor there were two doors across from each other. The door on the left lead into the Bosses' Office, and when Vinc glanced into the room to the right he noticed a small tablet on top of a metal desk with a small black fan rotating back and forth.A single rolling black chair stood in front of the desk. The floor was still tiled with the same black and white alternating tiles stretching from the main room. The walls were the same way: the same design from the other rooms a unsaturated purple-gray wall parted by a strip of two tiles high black and white alternating square tiles, two lines of red sandwiching the tiles between them. 

“Oh, that's the security office,” Tim noticed that Vinc was looking into the office, “But it's really only used during the night shift.” 

Vinc shook his head, “Thanks but no thanks. I'd rather not be here during the night. No offense to your facility, but after those rumors from all the previous locations and the night guards, I don't want to take the chances.” 

Tim laughed, inviting Vincent into their office, “We've already got somebody to fill the night shift. Actually,” Tim went into the room followed by Vincent, “I don't remember his name, but he had worked at one of the old places--so he was prefect for the job!” 

“Somebody from the old place wants to work here?” Vinc rose and eyebrow, frowning slightly, “Are they mad?” 

Both Tim and Jean shrugged, “He's actually pretty nice, he even makes a lot of puns!” Then Jean signaled to Vinc to sit down in the chair opposite of the desk. 

Vincent complied, sitting across from them--nearly falling into the plush surface of the chair, “Woah that is...” 

“Soft?” Jean beamed. 

“Yeah,” Vinc had to hide his annoyance towards such a stupid chair: it was like sitting on one of those beanbags with all those annoying little foam balls that if you got them out they would stick to everything, and boy did it mean everything, “I guess I'd call it that.” Taking a deep breath he focused back in on his possible future bosses, “Ask away.” 

“Alright,” Tim pulled out a manila folder with only a few papers in it, on the little tab was the name “Vincent Valenteno.” He opened it up to a page and scanned through it, “It says here that you previously worked at a hotel as a security guard?” Tim glanced up to Vinc. 

“Oh yeah,” Vinc raised an arm, itching the back of his neck, “It was a couple years ago.” 

“What made you leave?” Jean questioned tilting his head to the side slightly, “Or did you get fired?” 

Vinc tensed up a bit, “Well,” he closed his eyes, listening to his breathing for a few moments to calm himself, “I had to leave because of some complications with location and some other workers.” 

Tim gasped at the last part, “They weren't mean to you, were they?” 

Vinc shook his head, “Nah, they weren't that mean to me. I was going to be moving back here, so the distance was too far since I wasn't going to be doing college at the nearby campus anymore, so I had to leave my job there.” 

“Are you still doing college?” Tim glanced to the papers in the folder, “It says here you're not currently doing classes.” 

“I'm not doing classes anymore,” He glanced to the side, a bit of sorrow in his eyes, “I didn't get enough funding to get through all the years, and well,” his gaze returned to the two, “I also came into possession of my sister's youngest kid after a long trial that found both her and her husband unfit to take care of the little tyke.” 

“Oh!” Both Jean and Tim exclaimed at once, “How old is he?” Tim was the one to ask. 

“He's going on nine now," Vincent replied. 

The two let out something that sounds like two school girls squeaking and squealing out in excitement, “Are you planning to bring him here?” 

“I do,” Vinc nodded, “If I get the job or not. It's something my family enjoyed doing when they were younger and I wanted to show him the history, plus,” Vinc grinned a bit, letting out a chuckle, “He's quite fond of the little figures I have of the band members: glued Foxy to my dashboard as a young kid, but I bet he would love to meet the real deals.” 

“Awh,” Tim smiled sweetly, “that's so cute!” Vinc took a few seconds to understand what was going on, realizing that they were more interested in talking about his nephew rather than the interview. 

Holding back an annoyed groan, he nodded, “Yeah.” 

Jean was able to pick up on what Vincent was showing, clearing his throat, “But back to the interview. Why do you think you would be a good addition to the Fazbear crew?” 

Vincent visibly relaxed when they were focused back on the interview rather than his personal life or his nephew, “I am pretty good with children. I make sure to talk to them like a human rather than a child, I also understand when there is a time to be silly and a time to be serious. I love to be around children as well, their innocence and joy is something that helps me feel happy inside.” 

“Alright,” Jean continued to beam with happiness, “And how are you with others your age?” 

Vinc had to think about it for a few seconds, “I really haven't spent much time around somebody my same age, mostly it's people either the age of Sebastian,” He caught a glimpse of confusion from the two, “My nephew,” and the two then nodded with an 'ah.' There was a heartbeat quick pause before he continued, “Or the parents of those kids. Both sides I get along with pretty well.” 

Tim nodded some more, crossing his arms in thought, “How would you feel about having a higher up position, one where you would be in charge of making sure things go smoothly with few hitches or without any hitches at all? Have you been in a management position before?” 

“I...” He was taken aback by the question, only replying in a quizzical tone, “Are you asking if I want to be a manager here?” 

The two became silent for a bit, exchanging glances to each other, then it was Jean who spoke up, “We're looking for somebody to fill the position, and so far you are the best candidate. From what you have said about yourself and what your resume says, you seem to be able to handle situations well and can handle being in charge of a group of people. There was another,” Tim glanced to the clipboard between the two of them, “Bob Beginzi, who seemed pretty good. He's the second candidate we are thinking about for the position." 

“Oh,” Vincent didn't mean to make the sound out load, but when he did Tim and Jean glanced over to him. 

“You know something about him?” Jean tilted his head, leaning closer to him, “What did you hear?” 

“I don't want to make it sound like gossip,” Vinc mumbled low enough that the two had to lean in really close to catch it. 

“We would like to know,” Tim's voice became a bit less playful and more serious, “Especially if it brings others to harm.” 

Shaking his head, Vincent decided to spill it, “I hear from Alice, who had worked with Bob before, that when he's in a higher position, he harasses other employees.” 

“Hmmmm...” Jean tapped his finger against his chin why Tim rubbed his own chin, “Thank you for the information.” The two stood up, Jean first followed by Tim, both offering out their hands. Vinc stood up and shook their hands one at a time, “I think you've helped us make the decision. Welcome to the Fazbear crew Vincent. When the place opens you'll be the first manager of the newly reopened Freddy Fazbear's Family Pizzaria!” 

“Yay!” Tim cheered only milliseconds after Jean had finished talking. 

Vincent's eyes grew wide, surprise on his face and felt a flustered feeling growing inside of his chest, “M-manager?” He blinked a couple times, trying to decipher if it was just a dream or reality. 

“Yup!” Jean smiled, walking over to the door leading out of the office, “We would like you to come in tomorrow when you can so we can start briefing you about what's going to be going on for the grand opening as well as getting things ready for it.” 

“O-of course. I'll come straight in after I drop off my nephew for school,” Vincent smiled brightly, giving them another hand shake before leaving the room. 

It was too hard for him to hide his excitement in his walk as he moved back to the main room. His heart was pounding out of his chest, jumping all through his rib cage, his blood felt hot with excitement and anticipation. A bit of anxiety flowing within the plasma as well, “This is going to be amazing.” He walked towards the exit, not realizing that there was a pair of eyes watching him, scrutinizing his every movement.


	3. Welcome to the Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New addition to the Valenteno Family, plus some dorking out before terror begins.

“How did it go?” Seb hopped into the car, sitting in the seat so he was facing his uncle, “How did the job interview go, huh?” He moved closer, practically sitting in Vincent's lap. 

“Hey, hey kid,” Vinc pushed him back into the passenger seat, laughing, “Calm down alright. I'll tell you on the way home--you just can't climb onto my lap why I am trying to drive.” Seb nodded quickly, buckling in. 

Once onto the main road Seb turned his body to Vinc, staring at him with wide green eyes, “Sooo...” he drew on the word for what felt like a minute, “How did it go?” 

He went on asking the question a few more times before Vinc huffed, stopping himself from rolling his eyes at the kid, “It went pretty well.” 

“Pretty well?” Seb frowned, hunching over slightly, “You don't know if you got the job or did you not get the job?” 

Vinc hid his smile, “Neither.” 

The kid next to him gave a confused look, tilting his head to the side like a curious kitten, “Neither?” 

Vincent nodded,repeating himself, “Neither.” 

“That means...” Seb sat there for a few minutes like an old computer trying to compute what he was speaking of, “You got it!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, scaring Vincent enough he swerved. 

“Kid!” He glared over towards him, getting the car back into the correct orientation on the road, “Warn me if you are going to yell like that! I almost killed us both.” 

Seb giggled a bit, but let it die down as the glare didn't stop, “Sorry...” He glanced to the side, letting out a tiny sigh, “I'm just really glad you were able to get the job.” 

Vincent's stare became softer as he too let out a small sigh, “It's alright, just,” he took a quick glance towards Seb before returning it to the road, “Keep it to an inside the car voice next time.” 

“Aye, captain,” Seb grinned, poking the little red fox figurine on the dashboard. 

_______________________________________________________________ 

On the road back to their home Vincent's eyes noticed the same small figure sitting curled up in a mass between two buildings just like before: the small girl was still there, her brown hair tied back in a ponytail, her face always covered by her arms and wearing something that could hardly be called rags. It was always painful to see this little girl, homeless, alone. It brought an empty feeling back into his mind, the feeling he had felt as a kid when he would run away from his home to try to get away from his parents--of course he would only last a couple hours before his parents' friends found him and brought him back home for the beating of his life, or at least of the moment. 

He had enough of it, seeing her in such pain and suffering. Something had to be done to help the poor child, and he would be the one to give her a new chance. Taking care of another kid wouldn't be that hard, would it? Vinc didn't have many problems taking care of Sebastian, he was a pretty good kid, perhaps the little girl wouldn't be that much more of a handful, and it would be nice for Seb to have another kid around. 

Seb was a lot like Vincent: they were both marginally younger than their two siblings, but Seb was only eight years younger than his oldest sister, why Vinc was twenty-five years younger than his older brother. They got along easily and because they were close, Sebastian respected and listened to Vincent. 

With little to no more thought on the situation, Vincent turned the car towards the nearest parking spot and pulled the car to a complete stop. He stepped out of the car, not bothering to turn the ignition off, hardly hearing the question coming from his small passenger. 

Thunder echoed in the distance, the rolling clouds closing in and threatening to pour drenching rain to the Earth. Picking up the pace, he came closer to the small girl. She didn't look up as he approached. 

Once close enough he went back to a slow walk, nearing her with careful steps, “Hey,” he tried to make his voice as nonthreatening as possible. The small girl jerked up, her single green eye staring widely at him, “No, no.” He held out his hands to show that he had nothing in them, “It's alright. I'm not here to hurt you. I wanted to see if you were okay.” His heart dropped, seeing that the girl was missing one of her eyes, the empty socket looking like it was that way for many years. 

Moving a few steps forward, he held out his hand a bit farther in front of him, lightning cracking through the sky not too far away, “Come on. I promise I won't hurt you. I want to help,” He smiled warmly to her, “Let's get you in a warm place. You'll get sick if your out here when the storm hits: Meteorologists say this downpour is going to be nearing flood conditions.” 

She hesitated for a few seconds, staring up at him, then smiled a bit, taking his hand. 

“Let's get you in,” He picked her up in a quick swoop, holding her above his head, getting a small eep from her before she let out a giggle. 

It only took him a few quick strides before he opened the car door with his foot, placing her down into one of the open seats “Umm...” He glanced around the back of the car at the mess of various car parts as well as blankets and trash, “Don't mind the mess.” 

He chuckled a bit, buckling her in then putting one of the blankets over her frail body, “All set?” She gave a small sheepish nod, then Vincent climbed into the front seat. 

Sebastian gawked back at her with wide eyes, “Woah...” He continued to stare at her as Vincent started up the car, “What happened to her-” 

He was cut off with a glare from Vinc, “That's not a good question to ask somebody, especially somebody you just met.” Seb nodded sadly in defeat, situating himself so he was facing forward, but on the way back to the apartment he glanced every-so-often towards the young girl. 

_______________________________________________________________________ 

“Here we are,” Vinc turned the ignition off, pulling out the keys. Positioning himself so he facing back, he rested an arm on the back of the driver's chair. He smiled a bit, glancing back to the girl, “You wanna follow us or be carried?” The little girl struggled to get the buckle undone, but once she did she glanced towards the two of them with triumph in her eye, “Heh," Vincent chuckled under his breath, "I guess that means you'll be following.” 

All three stepped out of the car and in a few strides for Vincent--fast paced small steps of the two kids--they passed through the threshold into the apartment complex. 

The hallway leading to the different doors for the apartments was wide with a worn blue-green flora carpet. At the end to the right was the place the two called home. 

“Welcome to Valenteno Space,” Vincent swung open the door, stepping inside. He held out his arms to present the surroundings as the two kids stepped in, “It's not amazing or eccentric, but it is what we call home.” 

The small girl observed all around the apartment, before going over to the couch and touching it. She was slightly taken aback by the softness against her touch. 

Still by the door Vincent smiled at her curiosity, “Heh, yeah it's pretty plush for being leather.” 

He then proceeded over to the fridge and pulled out some leftover waffles. 

“Yes, the waffles!” Seb cheered out, “I bet she'd love them!” He ran over to the island counter, climbing up atop one of the bar stools. 

At the sound of the bag the young girl turned her focus away from the couch and onto what Vincent had in his hands, “You ever had waffles?” The girl shook her head, “Wow, you haven't lived until you've eaten waffles.” He pulled out a plate from a cabinet, placed the waffle onto it, then threw it into the microwave, “Let's warm it up first for about a minute.” He pushed the buttons and the microwave sprang to life, letting out the low hum as it began to nuke the waffle inside. 

“So,” Vincent itched the back of his neck as he leaned against the counter top, looking to the girl, “It would be impolite not to introduce ourselves.” A smile came to his face as he knelt down to her height, “My name is Vincent, this is my nephew Sebastian.” 

Seb perked up when he heard his name, turning with wide eyes, and waved as her green eye locked onto to him, “Hello.” 

“And what about you?” Vincent focused on her, the petite girl's attention returning to him, “What's your name?” 

She was hesitant at first, glancing around the place nervously, then finally spoke out, “Mimi.” 

“Mimi?” Seb blinked processing the name, “I like it!” He smiled, looking to Vincent, “Can we keep her?” 

“Seb you can't just say you want to keep a person,” Vinc had to stop himself from snorting with laughter, “It's up to her if she wants to stay with us, and how long she wants to stay. Just know,” his voice became serious turning to Mimi, placing a hand on her shoulder, “If you want to leave at any time you are able to. I won't force you to stay here, but during the day Seb has school and I've got a job that's going to take a lot of my time, so it may get lonely if you stay. If you want to leave during the day,” He pointed to the black dry-erase board positioned on the lower half of the fridge, “Just leave us a note on there--you don't have to say if you will be back, but if you don't plan on coming back at least say good bye.” 

“I... I don't want to leave...” She peeped out, looking up to Vincent with an eye that was starting to water up, “Thank you. I... I've never had somebody offer me such things... You,” She sniffed, trying to hold back the tears, “You're so kind and sweet taking me in when nobody else would. Thank you.” 

“You're welcome kid,” Vinc smiled, pulling Mimi into a hug, “I couldn't just stand idly by and watch somebody so young suffer. I've dealt with pain and agony my childhood,” He gave her a small pat on the back, before moving so his eyes met hers, “It may have not been the same, but it was still painful, and no child should go through that.” 

“Thank you,” She smiled. 

Vinc chuckled as he ruffled her hair, “You don't have to thank me so much,” they were interrupted by the beeping of the microwave, “And now the waffle is dead.” 

“Dead?” Mimi widened her eye, putting her small hands up to cover her mouth in a gasp, “I hope it wasn't painful.” Vinc swung open the microwave taking out the plate with the waffle. 

He placed the plate onto the counter top. He then took an invisible hat off of his head, placing it over his heart. Bowing his head down he adopted a mournful voice, “Dearly beloved we are gathered here today to mourn the passing of this waffle.” Seb followed suit and took off his invisible hat, putting it over his chest, “It was a beautiful waffle, it was a young waffle. We will remember the wonderful smell of when it was born, but now it will be in a better place,” And with that he gave the plate over to Mimi, “Give it a good burial.” 

The young girl smiled and then took a bite of the waffle, “This is amazing!” She beamed, taking more bites out of it until it was no more. 

“It's a special recipe Uncle Vincent makes: he takes vanilla extract as well as ground up vanilla beans, and adds them in!” Seb pipped in, “He also adds a bit of coconut milk in instead of just full regular milk.” 

Vinc gave Seb a playful glare, “You gave away the secret! Now we can't have her ever leave. She must be initiated into the family or face the penalty of memory erase.” Vinc then dove in, picking up the little girl as she giggled. He spun her around once before putting her on top of the island counter. Near by, Seb jumped onto the bench beside the front door, flicking off all lights except for the pendant lights above the island counter top. 

“Mimi.” Vincent imitated the deep voice of what would be expected of a cult leader, the light barely illuminating his figure as he stood with his arms open wide, “Do you swear to keep the secret of the Valenteno waffle and swear to uphold the way of sarcasm, rhyming and jokes?” 

“I do,” Mimi held up her right hand, her face trying to stay serious, “I swear to uphold all of it.” 

Vinc nodded slowly, waving his arms around her in an exaggerated silly fashion, then poked her on the nose, “The ritual is almost complete. Seb,” The boy ran over to his side, “The vanilla.” Seb saluted him and climbed up onto the counter next to the stove, opening the tall thin cabinet door. The kid rummaged around a bit, causing Vincent to break character and roll his eyes, only for Mimi to see. She giggled in response. Seb let out a small squeak of triumph and pulled out the bottle of vanilla extract. 

“By the power of our sacred extract,” he took the bottle from Seb, opening up the lid, “We will bless you.” Letting a few drops fall onto his thumb, he gently touched it against Mimi's forehead, streaking it from left to right, “You have now been blessed. From this moment forward, you shall be known and Mimi the Elegant,” he then shrugged, setting down the bottle of vanilla extract, “Or just Mimi for short. Your pick.” 

Then Seb flicked on the lights again, “Oh come on,” Vinc pretended to moan in disappointment, “You ruined the mood kid.” 

Seb shrugged, going over to the fridge, “I thought we were done. But, this calls for a celebratory bowl of ice cream!” He swung open the door, digging though the freezer for the ice cream. 

“Hey!” Vincent realized what Sebastian was digging for, “The vanilla bean ice cream is mine you little scamp.” 

________________________________________________________________ 

A few bowls of ice cream later and a couple episodes of a cartoon about two kids going to visit their Great Uncle during the summer in a made up town full of mysteries, Vinc ushered the two kids to bed, “It's almost eleven o'clock at night,” He responded to the moan from Seb that it 'wasn't that late,' “It is too late for you kids.” 

He was able to pry Seb off of him and put him into his room, closing the door behind him. The blue eyes glanced over to Mimi, “He'll be out before he hits the bed.” And he was right: once the flop of Seb hitting the bed was heard it was followed by the quiet breathing as he slept. 

Vincent focused all his attention on Mimi, “I don't have much appropriate for a girl, but I should have a shirt you can use," he thoughtfully tapped a finger against his chin looking her over, "Tomorrow after work I'll take you out shopping so we can get you some good cloths.” Mimi nodded, itching at the current clothing she had on, “and we'll probably get rid of those if you don't mind that.” 

She shook her head, “That's fine.” 

He lead her to the room next to his own, opening it up to her, “This will be where you'll sleep. It's the spare bedroom, but it's still usable.” The two stepped inside, “If you don't feel comfortable sleeping alone you can come crawl into my bed. I don't bite,” he grinned, turning to the doorway, “Too hard.” Her eyes widened at the comment, letting out a small gasp. 

Vincent quickly corrected himself with a hint of amusement in his voice, “Just kidding--as I said before the Valeteno duo--now trio with you--makes a lot of jokes," he shook his head before stepping out of the room, "but let me go find you a shirt to wear to sleep.” 

Vinc left for a few second returning with a purple shirt, “it's an adult male medium so it's probably going to be a tent for you, but it's better than nothing.” He handed over the shirt and gave her another quick hug, “Good night Mimi.” 

“Good night Vincent,” She smiled hugging him back. Once they parted she began slipping off the tattered remains of her shirt to put on the new shirt, covering her entire body. 

“Yup,” Vinc chuckled, “Tent.” He remained at the doorway until Mimi was settled in under the covers, “Sleep well.” Closing the door, he smiled to himself as he returned to his room. 

Things were completely different now, but it was starting to look up. Now, not only did he have Seb to keep himself out of the dark depths of his mind, but he had a new job and had Mimi to take care of now. It was all going to be for the better. 

Laying down in his bed, he let out a deep sigh, pulling the covers up to his chin. He turned onto his stomach, splaying out his legs trying to get into a comfortable enough position to be able to sleep, and eventually he drifted off into sleep...


	4. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even though nightmares are just dreams, sometimes they can feel more real than reality itself...

His blue eyes flickered open, smelling the stale dusty air drifting around him. The area around him began to come into focus: the desk in front of him formed its shape back. Each of the three figures of Freddy, Bonnie and Chica formed into their cute colorful shapes on top of the desk's surface. The black wire fan he remembered seeing in the security office in the new facility sat on the desk and in the left corner was a box full of various animatronic parts, mostly masks of older scrapped versions, looking disgustingly cutesy. 

“Where...?” Vincent held his head as he gave a quick glance around the room. To his right was a small screen hooked to the wall with a mini-map of the facility in the bottom corner, two buttons next to it reading “Play Audio” and “Toggle Cameras” and a view of the current room it was on. In his lap was a thin tablet with a few commands: “Reboot Audio,” “Reboot Camera,” “Reboot Ventilation” and “Reboot All.” It was all starting to come together. 

His heart began to beat against the rib cage prison, “Oh god no...” His voice was a hushed whimper, looking left and right, gripping the tablet in his lap tightly, “Not this place again.” Vincent didn't dare stand up from the chair because he knew what would be on the other side of that glass window, something he hated to even think about let alone look at. 

Then the sound of metallic footsteps shuffling in another room caused his heart to nearly leap out of his body, and his courage to completely abandon him. 

It was here. It was coming for him. Panic became a thick lump in his throat as he scrambled to the screen on the retractable arm, pulling in out in front of him, “Where is he?” He flicked to CAM05, pressing the “Play Audio” button. The sound of a small child saying “hello” echoed in that room, the panic slowly dying down, “Go find the kid.” 

He let out a sigh, moving the screen away from his field of view, glancing towards the window in front of him. His gaze was met with one of what could be considered an animatronic abomination. 

The silver eyes let out a dim glow, focused on his blue ones. The body of the animatronic was in tatters, it's once smooth golden colored surface now a near green-yellow color and many holes ripped into its parts. Seeping through the exposed parts were red-pink masses, some thin others thicker, one was even more of a brown red color compared to the rest in the lower chest cavity. It's head twitched to the side, letting out small bursts of static sounds that sounded more like a glitching stereo than a voice, the jaw slightly open. 

This was always like before, but it never ceased to send a dripping fear throughout his body. Those eyes would watch him, study him until either the animatronic vanished or--in the last absolutely terrifying encounter--smash through the supposed "shatter proof" window and latch it's arms onto his shoulders before raising him up to eye level. The dreams would not end there, usually ending with the animatronic either smashing Vincent's lanky frame into the wall behind him, or trying to get out some garbled words before crushing his fragile skull between the powerful animatronic jaws. 

“No...” Vincent backed away still sitting in the chair, “No... get away...” The back of the chair hit the wall, causing him to jump, “Stay away!” He brought his feet up close to his body, trying to protect his mid section, “Stay away from me!” 

“Vin....Vi... Vinc-cent...” A low broken gargled voice called into his ear, “Vin....ce..nt...” 

Vinc pressed his legs up to his chest, cupping his hands around his ears, “Leave me alone!” He could feel the presence coming closer, the already overwhelming dread and fear becoming even thicker. 

“Afraid?” He heard the voice right next to him, causing his muscles to painfully tense up, “There's no-no need to fe-ear,” The voice glitched, he could hear the garbled audio glitch next to him, “Are you af-afraid?” As it spoke more the voice became more human like, something familiar to it. 

“O-of course I am afraid.” Vincent tried to muster up some of his lost courage, “I know who you are.” 

“Do you?” The voice chuckled. Before Vincent had a chance to reply heavy mechanical hands seized his shoulders, pulling him up from his chair, “Then who am I?” Vinc opened his eyes again, realizing he was off the ground, his shoulders aching from the grip. 

“Gah...” He winced, tightly shutting his eyes, “You're...” He turned his face away from the animatronic, only getting the grip on his shoulders tighter, “Ow!” He snapped his attention back to the creature, the grip only lessening a bit after his blue eyes fell back onto the silver ones, “You're the Springtrap. That abomination of man and animatronic, the man who killed so many children, as the media liked to call you 'the Purple Guy.'” At the last remark the Springtrap let out a loud blood curling shriek, opening it's maw enough that the decayed mummified skull could be seen within. 

“No, no!” Vincent recoiled back, feeling that petrifying fear boil back up, “No!” The open maw had been right near his face causing the shriek to be extra potent against his hearing. His mind screamed at him to try to escape, painfully throbbing from the sheer volume of the previous sound. 

Then, as if nothing happened, the animatronic head closed back up, the silver eyes keeping its gaze on him, “Do not call me that!” The eyes narrowed, a deathly slick groan escaping the animatronic, “That pathetic annoying pet name. But I didn't mean that,” the Springtrap let out a low groaned laugh, tilting its head to the side, “I meant my real name.” 

“Real name?” Vincent never broke eye contact with the Springtrap in both fear of what it would do if he took a quick glance away, and in a way to work away from the fear of the, thing, “You mean your name before, this? Why would I know, or care?” He snarled at the machine, only getting an amused snort from it. 

“You know it more than what you would like, Vincent.” By now the voice had become completely human,flowing smoothly as if it was coming from a fleshy tongue, “You'll find the truth out soon, and I'll be seeing you soon...” The silver eyes closed, reopening to being a bright glowing purple, the loud shriek rising back up, deafening Vincent, who then screamed out as well, feeling heavy pressure on his shoulders, feeling each bone crack and pop under the stress. Then everything faded back to his room. 

________________________________________________________________ 

“Uncle Vinc!” Seb shook him by the shoulders, feeling his muscles tense to the touch, “Wake up!” He continued to shake his uncle, working on trying to wake him. 

Mimi appeared in the doorway, rubbing her sleepy eyes, “I heard screaming.” She glanced up to Seb who was on the bed, “What's going on?” Worry rose in her voice, moving to the other side of the bed where Sebastian was. 

“He's not waking up,” Seb frowned deeply, shaking Vinc even harder, his uncle tensing up even more each shook he gave, “He's having one of his night terrors.” His young voice was stressed with fear as he finally let go of his uncle, tears running down his cheeks, “Usually he wakes up by now but he's not!” 

Mimi climbed up onto the bed next to Seb, poking Vincent on the face, “Vincent?” His face scrunched up to the touch, his expression in one of fear, “He seems to be afraid.” 

“He is having a nightmare,” Seb couldn't frown anymore without hurting his face, “He's not going to be happy during it, he never is.” As they were about to touch him again, he let out a scream, jerking up from his laying down position, the two kids screaming out in surprise, “Uncle Vincent!” Seb yelled out followed closely by Mimi. 

“Vincent!” 

The two kids threw their arms around him,hugging onto him tightly, “You're awake,” Seb sobbed burying his face in the left side of his chest, “You scared me to death...” 

“Seb...” Vincent became more aware of the world around him, relaxing as he realized it was the waking world, “Mimi...” He wrapped his arms around both of them, pulling them into a close tight hug, “I'm so sorry... It was horrible.” His voice was laced with exhaustion and fear, “It was there...” 

Vinc shook his head, closing his eyes tightly shut, trying to push the image of out his mind of the decaying skull within the maw of the animatronic as well as the haunting words it had told him. 

“It?” Mimi tilted her small head, looking from between Seb and Vinc, “What is it?” 

Sebastian was the one to respond, “'It' is an animatronic that was at that horror attraction, Fazbear Fright I think it was called. Burned down a few years ago before it opened up, but Uncle Vincent's family was able to get a quick tour of the place.” 

“That thing was there,” Vincent softly began to talk, fear still heavy in his voice, “I was fifteen when we went to that place, but that thing disturbed me. I never saw it active, but after the stories were told from the security guard who had worked there, I began to have constant nightmares of it. It would haunt me, follow me, hunt me...” He shivered, glancing to the side, “It was torture to go to sleep. I would sit awake at night, every night, struggling to keep myself awake until I would pass out from exhaustion.” 

“Do you still have it that way?” Mimi began to grow even more worried, looking up to her new caretaker. 

“Not every night, no,” Vinc turned back to focus his blue eyes on her green eye, “It took me a year to be able to sleep a night without the terror creeping around my mind.” 

“It's awful to hear,” Seb sighed sadly, squeezing his hug on his uncle, “And probably even worse to experience.” 

Vinc let out a small chuckle, ruffling Seb's black hair, “You don't know the half of it. Each night,” He turned his attention to the window right above his bed, “the terrors would get worse. I could hear this moan, and sometimes even something that sounded like short bursts of radio static. Then, only recently,” another drop in his voice came into light, “I could understand more than just the one word it could speak to me.” 

“What's the word?” Mimi gazed up to him green eye wide with interest and awe. 

“It...” He paused, trying to swallow down his creeping fear, “It would say my name.” 

The small girl let out a gaps, “It says your name?” Vince replied with a nod, “How does it know your name?” 

“It's not the actual thing,” He placed a reassuring hand onto her shoulder, “It was created by my mind as a way to work out my fear of it as well as other fears and anxieties, such as my recently found fear of animated corpses such as mummies.” 

“Oh,” Seb chipped in with his sudden realization, “That's why you didn't take me to the Egyptian Mummies exhibit in the museum the one time it was in town.” 

This time Vincent couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes, “I told you that.” 

The boy shook his head, “You just said you didn't like it.” 

“Not the point right now,” he gave his nephew a slight corner-of-the-mouth frown, readjusting his body position under the covers so his lower half was facing towards the right, “You two should get some more sleep before the morning, it is,” He glanced over to the clock, noticing the red glowing numbers reading “2:53AM,” “It's only about three AM? Yikes, that is still three hours before I have to get up.” 

“Do you want us to stay in here with you?” Seb smiled a bit, perking up to his full--yet still tiny--height, “We'll gladly stay in here with you, right?” 

The boy glanced to Mimi whom responded with a nod, “Right.” 

Vinc let out a small chuckle, pushing Seb playfully back a bit, “I'll be fine you just get back into bed. I'm going to do a bit of reading so you don't want to be in here: lots of light and boring old reading you wouldn't be interested in.” 

“Oh fine,” Seb pouted, jumping off the bed, “I'll see you in the morning Uncle Vincent.” He gave a small wave before leaving the room going across the hall to his own room. Vince moved under the covers again, shifting over to the right side of the bed to a nightstand, opening the drawer. 

“What are you going to read?” Mimi's soft voice peeped, moving her own body towards the side of the bed, climbing over his legs. 

“Hehe,” Vinc couldn't help but laugh as he felt her crawl over his legs, “Just an old story I like to read. It was something written by my father back before he retired, so I got a free copy of it. It's about a young boy who goes out to find his family and friends after being split from them for years,” He shrugged, pulling the black covered book out from the nightstand, bringing along with it another smaller leather-backed book, “It sounds boring but it's really good and has some good twists to it.” 

“What's the other book?” Mimi tilted her head, touching her petite hand onto the leather surface. 

“Oh that one,” Vincent's voice became a little distressed about the book, “It's just a place I write down and sketch out my thoughts.” Before he got a chance to put the small book back into the drawer, Mimi had swiped it up, flipping through the pages, “Mimi...” He tried hard not to sound irritated, “Please give that back.” 

“Who's this?” She blinked, turning the page around that she was curiously admiring, “It looks broken and sad.” 

His blue eyes focused on the page, seeing the familiar broken down figure, “That's it.” His voice was bitter staring at the animatronic, “That is the Springtrap. Horrifying thing.” 

Mimi took another glance to the picture and then back to Vincent, “That's the thing you see in your dreams?” She gave him a deep sorrowful frown, “No wonder why you are terrified.” 

“Just don't flip to the next pag- now that I'm saying that you are going to,” Vinc sighed not even bothering to finish what he was going to say, hearing the flip of the page, followed by a terrified squeak from Mimi. 

“Eeek! That's terrifying!” She tossed the book across the bed, landing by Vincent's feet. 

“Yeah,” He chuckled a bit, retrieving the small book, “It's not a pretty sight seeing that. And,” He put a hand on her head smiling a bit, “Now you know why I don't trust mummies.” 

“I don't trust them either,” Mimi mumbled, burying her face in Vincent's chest, “It's terrifying.” She clung onto him tightly, Vinc wrapping his arms around her shoulders. 

“It's alright. The thing is long gone. It more than likely burned in the fire,” he moved so he was staring right into her eye, “It will never hunt a living soul again.” He let out a huge yawn, feeling his eyes ache for sleep, “Though I think I might go back to sleep instead of reading. I've got a lot of work to do tomorrow for my new job.” Mimi nodded, giving him a small yawn in return, “And you need to get some sleep too.” He playfully tapped her on the cheek, “You're practically falling asleep right here.” 

The young girl nodded, slowly getting off the bed, “Night Vincent.” 

“Night Mimi,” Vinc smiled at her as she left the room closing the door quietly behind her. He took in a deep breath before releasing a deep sigh, pulling the small leather-backed book to him. He proceeded by pulling a pencil from underneath his pillow. 

Flipping open the book to the next blank page he began to sketch out his thoughts, drawing out each image and each curve of his thoughts. He made sure to create each gap and gouge in the body, each dent and damage, not bothering to clean each line as he continued the image. 

Finally, he had completed it. It was something he was both proud and appalled by: on the once blank page was the figure of the broken animatronic, its jaw wide open, revealing the face underneath, but it was lively, tan skin still full of life and color, the teeth bared in a snarling smile, eyes dangerous and hungry, few strands of hair draped over the face. In all despite the smile and dangerous eyes, there was blood over his face, wires ripping into his jaw and stretching across the side of his cheek cutting into the flesh. 

“No wonder my mind is such a mess,” Vincent huffed, setting the small book down beside him, the pencil still in hand, “If I see things like this.” He took another glance to the drawing, feeling a disturbing feeling wash over his mind: somehow--someway--this man trapped inside the Springtrap, reminded him of himself, a darker twisted and sadistic version of himself, but still someone like him. It was almost frustrating, infuriating in fact, that his mind would create these things, tormenting him from the inside out. 

Anger boiled into his mind, gripping the pencil tightly between his palm and fingers. It was a common occurrence for him to feel the anger towards himself, feeling the rage at his mind for tormenting him with the haunting images. As quick as it came the anger simmered down, his emotions shifting to sorrow. 

Vincent's muscles tightened, shutting his eyes, holding back a choking sob. He loosened his grip, letting the pencil fall down onto the sheets, pulling his knees up to his chest, “Another one of these nights...” His voice dripped with sorrow, resting his head against his knees, “No sleep.” Shaking his head he kept his knees close to his chest, letting his mind become blank of any thought or emotion. Usually, doing such a thing would do the trick, allowing his mind to clam down and eventually allow him to sleep without any nightmares or haunting images. 

This time was no different. After a few minutes of leaving his mind blank, only thinking about the darkness around him, listening to his own breath and heartbeat, his eyes began to droop. His mind began to push him to go to sleep, releasing his knees from his grip, letting them slip back to a more comfortable position. 

Yawning Vinc laid back down under the covers, resting his head against the pillow, “Just a few more hours, then I can get to my new job.” He shifted underneath the covers, turning his body to the left, slightly curling his body closer to itself. One last tired blink and he closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep.


	5. First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's more nerve wracking that an interview? Perhaps the time before the first day of work.

The air was filled with the chirping of birds, the call of a chickadee nearly drowning out all the other chirps. As Vincent's eyes flickered open his head began to throb painfully, screaming the pain throughout his mind, “Ugh,” He held his head in both hands, slowly readjusting so he was sitting up fully in bed, “Great, headache already and it's barely past,” he glanced to the clock seeing the numbers flash “6:30AM.” Growling to himself he rolled his eyes, “six thirty? Ugh, great. Slept in for an extra thirty minutes. Less time to get ready.” 

Sighing heavily Vinc threw the sheets off of his body, crawling to the edge of the bed. Heaving himself up off the comfortable soft surface of his bed, he rubbed his shoulder in thought and an attempt to stimulate his body to wake up quicker. 

His mind was still burdened with fatigue, working on adjusting to the bright light shining through the small spaces between each section the blinds covering his windows, but despite that Vince sauntered out of his room into the hallway. It was still early enough that both Seb and Mimi were still sound asleep in their rooms, so Vinc didn't check in their rooms just in case the door opening would wake them. 

Stumbling into the kitchen, Vincent pulled out a mug from the cabinets and started up the coffee maker, “Come on...” he mumbled, setting the mug down next to the working machine, “Go quicker. I need my life juice.” His blue eyes were half lidded, resting his head in his hands as he leaned against the counter, hearing the hum of the coffee maker echo through the room. 

In the time he was waiting it gave his mind time to reflect over the dream from the night before. What did that abomination mean by “his real name?” From the conversations Vinc had with the old security guard from the facility the animatronic was given the name “The Springtrap.” So was that not his name? The only conclusion he could come up with is that it meant the name it had before it became what it was, but the human trapped inside or the suit's name? The media never released the name of the murderer, since really they never found out what happened to the guy. He just suddenly vanished, the owner Mr. Paine not willing to give out the employees name, but some knew better. The old security guard at the fright attraction knew different, he was the one who informed Vincent about who was trapped inside the broken suit, well what was left of the man. Even though the guard had concluded who was trapped inside, he wasn't able to dig up the name of the man. More and more mysteries seemed to arise from the depths of the Fazbear Killer's history. 

Though having a “face to the man inside” didn't help him feel anymore comfortable about having the dreams. Knowing that inside that suit was the decayed body of the Purple Killer (he preferred to call him that after the multiple occasions of pain and agony in his dreams if he called him the media's favorite name of “The Purple Guy”) didn't give him any comfort in knowing that the image of this horrible monster stuck in his mind. He knew that there was something else to having these dreams, something bigger than just his mind making it up. 

Vinc had known that he was open to more than most other people: he believed that spirits would stay in this life if they had something unfinished, or stay because they are trapped, doomed to a curse or a punishment for their crimes in their mortal life. Because of this belief, he had to often push out the dark thought that perhaps, because of his unfortunate belief and ability to sometimes perceive things others cannot, the monster reached out to him. Perhaps that was the reason why he was chosen out of all people, because he could sense the spirit, if it could be called that anymore, because he was open. 

“Morning Uncle Vinc!” Seb smiled to his uncle as he entered the kitchen, his Plushtrap doll in hand, followed a few moments later by a tired looking Mimi. 

“Morning you two,” He replied to his nephew, not turning away from the coffee maker, his mind grinding away at the puzzle currently occupying it. 

“What is he doing?” Mimi glanced over to Seb a small eyebrow raised. 

Seb let out a giggle, hugging onto his Plushtrap, “He's worshiping the device that gives him 'life juice' so he can actually function this early in the morning.” The young boy shifted over to the fridge, pulling out some of the leftover waffles to eat, offering one to Mimi, “Uncle Vinc is a horrible morning person, even with the life juice in his system. During the summer he won't wake up until noon or earlier if I wake him up,” The kid itched his head a couple times, taking a bite out of the waffle in his hand, the Plushtrap nestled in the crook of his elbow, when the other shook her head to decline the offered waffle, “But if I wake him up, he's a bit grumpy for a while.” 

“When you get to my age, you'll be grumpy when you're woken up early,” Vinc rolled his eyes, wrapping his fingers around the mug, continuing to stare at the working machine, “You take all of my energy you know?” 

“I know,” Seb grinned, “I'm the energy sapper.” 

At the end of the bedroom hallway Mimi let out a small giggle, “But if he's sapped of energy, how could he take care of us?” 

As if their minds were connected both Vinc and Seb responded at the same time, “Coffee.” 

Vinc chuckled a bit, playfully tapping Seb on the leg with his foot, “Go eat your waffles. You too,” He focused on Mimi, “You need to eat something else besides the ice cream you had last night.” The young girl nodded, going to the fridge and took out a waffle. 

“How many waffles do you make?” She tilted her head turning her green eye to Vincent. 

The adult shrugged, perking up when the coffee maker let out a ding, “Finally!” He took the full pot from the machine, quickly pouring it into the mug one of his hands still death gripped, “And as for the number of waffles.” He set the pot down back in its place, bringing the warm liquid up to his face, “I usually lose count. As for how often I make it: once every week. It's one of our favorites.” 

“Yup!” Seb beamed, taking another large bite out of his waffle, “They're so good, and my favorite.” 

Mimi bit into the waffle, smiling like a tiny dork, “They are good.” The only reply 

Vincent gave at first was a snort, blowing on the liquid to cool it down a bit, “Valenteno family secret: we make awesome waffles.” 

The girl turned her attention back onto Vinc, curiosity in her eye, “Do you have other family members besides Seb?” 

At first, Vincent was taken aback by the question, wondering where it came from, “Why do you ask?” 

“Well,” Mimi paused, feeling a bit embarrassed to have asked the question, “Sebastian calls you 'Uncle Vinc' so that means you at least have to have a sister or brother.” 

Taking a long gulp of the coffee, Vincent let his mind think for a while how to explain his family without giving too many details, “Well. Seb's mother, my sister Valorie, and her husband what's-his-name, were deemed unfit to take care of Seb here, so I got him. His sisters were old enough that they were able to be emancipated and are living together on their own near by their grandmother's house.” 

“Do you have any other siblings?” Mimi blinked, going to the other side of the island counter, sitting on one of the bar stools, “And what about your parents?” 

At the mention of his parents Vinc visibly cringed. When given a worried look from the girl he shook his head, “I have an older brother who's about twenty-five years older than me with two kids about my age. My parents I don't keep in contact with much. I prefer to stay away from my mother, and my father has early onset Alzheimer's so he would probably barely remember who I am.” He gave another shrug, taking a sip of his coffee, “But I really don't care.” 

“You don't care about your parents?” Mimi voiced out, glancing from Vincent to Seb and back, “But aren't parents supposed to take care of their children, or were they like mine?” 

Vincent frowned, feeling that creeping emotion of pity and sorrow for the poor girl, the only thing worse than being verbally and physically abused by your parents is to be abandoned by them, either on purpose or by death himself, “Some parents just don't take enough care of their children. For example,” nearly on cue loud bangs and yelling came from behind the front door, echoing through the halls, “There's a family a couple doors down from here that have about fifteen kids in an apartment the same size as this one.” 

“Fifteen kids?!” Mimi drew back a gasp, putting her hands over her mouth, staring wide-eyed at her caretaker. 

“Yeah, fifteen kids in one apartment.” Vincent chuckled at how Mimi responded to the idea, “Most of them are foster children, all but like one I think,” he rose an eyebrow in thought, then shook the thought away with a dismissive shake of his head, “somehow they were able to get that many foster children in such a compact place, and the agency allowed that.” He shook his head some more letting out another sigh, his tone becoming one of annoyance bordering on anger, “Barely feed those kids; in moments like that, it causes me to have less faith in the services. I found one of them in my kitchen trying to steal food.” 

“How did they get into the apartment?” The young girl tilted her head in a quizzical fashion. 

Vinc gave a corner-of-the-eye glare at Seb, the kid turning red in the face and tried to shy away from the stern gaze, “Somebody,” he emphasized the word focusing his full attention to the kid when he spoke, “left the door unlocked and slightly ajar, so the kid decided to come in and help himself.” There was irritation bubbling up in his voice, “I'm not so much pissed off at the fact he tried to steal my food, more of the fact he was driven to do said act because he wasn't fed.” 

“That's really sad...” Mimi frowned, taking a small guilty bite out of the waffle she clutched. 

Vincent slowly nodded in agreement, before glancing toward the clock on the microwave, “Seb,” the kid un-hid his face from his hands, green eyes looking up to his uncle, “get ready for school.” Sebastian bobbed his head, dashing back to his room, “You going to be fine being by yourself here?” Vinc returned his attention back to Mimi, “I'd love to bring you to work, but I can't bring anyone who isn't an employee in the facility.” 

“Why not?” The young girl blinked a couples times then consumed the rest of her waffle. 

He couldn't help but chuckle a little as she stuffed the waffle remains into her mouth, “The place isn't officially open yet until the beginning of next week.” 

“You're working at Freddy Fazbear's Family Pizzeria?” Mimi squeaked with excitement, “That's awesome!” 

Vincent smiled, ruffling her hair a bit, “But back to my question, are you going to be okay by yourself for the day?” 

The young girl nodded, heading over to the couch, “I'll be fine.” Then plopped her body down onto the surface, “I'll catch up on the show we were watching last night why you guys are gone.” 

The older man snorted, picking up his car keys, hearing Seb come out of his room, “Alright then. Don't let the feels get to you too badly.” With that Sebastian galloped over to him, slipping out the door before he had a chance to interrogate him to see if he had brushed his teeth and hair. Giving one last glance and a smile to Mimi he left the apartment, closing the door firmly shut behind him. 

“Show time.” He followed Seb down the hallway to the front door, tuning out the loud crashes and bangs coming from the apartment with the foster family, ignoring the pang of pity throbbing in his heart. 

Mixed in with the pity he felt for the children crammed in the small apartment, was also a creeping feeling, something he couldn't pin-point but something that made his skin crawl; it was like something was going to change his day, his job and perhaps even his life. Vincent hadn't noticed that he had stopped moving until he heard the quiet voice of his nephew, “Uncle Vinc?” His mind brought him away from the feeling growing inside him, “Are you okay?” The small child was standing next to the purple car door, glancing across the nose of the vehicle to the taller man, “You kind of zoned out there.” 

“Oh, I uh...” Vincent trailed off, unlocking the doors, “Just calming my mind.” 

Seb smiled to him, opening the car door and plopping down onto the seat, “I bet you're excited to start your first day at work! Although,” Seb glanced to his uncle as he sat down in the driver's seat, “I do wish I knew where you were working.” 

Vinc then burst into laughter, “Oh Seb,” He shook his head holding his side, “Mimi got it the second I talked about it.” 

“But I still don't get it!” Seb pouted, putting on his seat belt, “I want to know so badly!” 

As the engine was started, he glanced his blue eyes to the pouting child, “I know, I know. You just have to wait until the beginning of next week before you can find out, and no cheating.” He took a quick glance left and right before pulling out of the parking spot, “No asking Mimi and I'll make sure to tell her not to give it to you.” 

“Darn...” Seb huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.


	6. The Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A package arrives for Jean /and/ Tim, but what is inside?

It didn't take too long to drop Seb off for school, as the streets were mostly bare of late goers to work or school, and the drive to the Pizzeria was pleasant; the air was cold enough that as Vinc stepped out of his car he could see the cloud of air that came out as he exhaled deeply to calm his nerves, all the trees around the Pizzeria were now bare of leaves, the sky a graying blue blotched with darkening clouds. The atmosphere had a heavy feeling to it, the feeling that came in before a flurry of snow would come bellowing down from the mountains. 

“Hmmm,” Vincent hummed, looking up into the sky, “May not have as many customers if the weather is right and there's going to be a blizzard coming in.” Letting out another deep exhale he began his trek across the back parking lot, being told employees should park behind the Pizzeria since they wanted customers to have quicker access to the front. The building was alone, surrounded on the east and west sides with two parking lots, the east one much larger than the west, and two busy streets on the north and south. Vincent himself wasn't familiar with the layout of the older locations of the Fazbear restaurants, but from what the owners had said they got the building made to be as close to the original as possible, of course with the addition of extra rooms for the various attractions they added in. 

Upon entering the facility from the front he was greeted with an overly cheerful, “Hello!” A familiar voice from the previous day. 

“Hello Freddy.” He smiled to the animatronic bear, seeing him along with Bonnie and Chica out from behind the curtains, “You guys seem active today.” 

Freddy nodded his large head, “Yup! Our systems are getting checked out and updated if need be.” The animatronic glanced over its shoulder to look back towards where the other two were, Demetri standing next to them. 

Vincent followed the gaze, noticing the technological genus, “Ah, I see.” He smiled a bit more to Freddy before giving him a small wave, “I need to head over to see what I can help with.” 

The blue eyes of the animatronic turned back to him, then Freddy gave what could be counted as a smile for an animatronic, “Alright, see you later!” 

“Vincent!” Jean called out running over to him before he had a chance to step too far away from the stage, “Glad you're here! We just got news that one of our shipments will be coming in today! It's a big one and it's going to need a lot of cleaning so I want you in charge of it.” His boss stopped a few inches away from him, pulling him into a hug, “You can do that right?” 

Vinc gave him a quick nod, feeling a bit put off by the extreme friendliness of the boss, “Of course. When should it be here?” 

“Pretty soon,” Another voice came into focus, this time not nearly as cheerful as Jean's, “I got the notification on my laptop.” The voice belonged to Demetri, holding a very complicated and advanced laptop, a couple cords connected to the jacks, “And I thought I told you this laptop was for use with the animatronics, not ordering your crap off of some website. If you got a virus on this computer it could transfer to the animatronics. I've already got enough problems with trying to get Foxy more,” Demetri sat the laptop onto the near by table, curling his fingers to make quotation marks in the air, “'Kid friendly.'” He picked up the laptop once again, “Which is not easy. I can't get him off of gouging eyeballs. I don't mind it,” Demetri ignored the glare he got from his twin brother, “But apparently if a kid throws up on the ship it's not ethical for the kid to get his eyes gouged out.” 

Jean shivered at the words, “It's not nice to kill people!” 

“I know,” Demetri stared at his brother with golden eyes blank of expression, then focused to Vincent, “You're mother won't be coming here will she?” Vinc let out a snort, not bothering to hide his sneer, “Not if I can help it. She doesn't like these kind of places anyways. You know, family places. Besides,” he shrugged, “She's got a Ethics Comity meeting somewhere far away next week so she'll be off far away from here.” 

“Good.” The tech genus let out a sigh of contempt, “Although I did want to test out some new nanobots on her.” 

Vincent shook his head, “No wonder why the Ethics Comity hates you.” 

Demetri rolled his eyes and started to the Pirate's Cove, “They are just against progress.” With that he disappeared behind the curtains, faint words could be heard, “Alright Captain, let's see if we can get rid of the eyeball gouging problem.” 

“I guess then,” Jean finally piped up after a minute of silence followed the leaving of Demetri, “The delivery should be here in a matter of minutes. I'll do the signy sign thing, we'll open it up and you can start cleaning it up.” 

Vincent nodded a few times as his boss explained the steps, “Alright. May I ask,” he paused when Jean turned his attention straight on him, “What is inside what's being delivered?” 

Before he was given the chance to respond, the growing sound of a large engine reverberated in the air, “It's here!” Tim came running out from the back office, grinning as he bolted to the door like a child who had just seen something they had to have, “It's here!” Vinc opened his mouth to ask his question again, but his words were unheard as Jean dashed over next to his friend, staring out the window as the delivery truck pulled up in front of the Pizzeria. 

A half awake, half dead looking man wearing the brown uniform came up to the door, holding a clipboard in his hands, “I have a package delivery for one Jean... Tim?” 

The two jumped up in excitement, dashing over to the man, “That's us!” They both said at the same time. The worker blinked a couple times, shrugged and held out the clipboard, “Well then one of you sign the papers.” 

Tim was the first to take the clipboard from the man, clicked the pen a couple times, then quickly returned it after signing, “There you go! Have a wonderful da-” before he could finish the worker took the clipboard and left the building, “ay...” Tim frowned, watching the front door, “How mean..” 

A few moments later the man from before came in accompanied by another man, both carrying a large box between the two of them. The man from before was in front, signaling to the man behind where to go. They dropped the box a few feet away from the entrance, far enough away that animatronics on stage had to lean over to see it. 

“What's that?” Freddy quarried, tilting his head to the side. 

Bonnie poked his head out from behind Freddy, ears slightly lopping to the side, “It's a box!” 

Freddy sighed glancing back to his band-mate, “Well of course it is.” 

“It's a surprise!” Jean giggled, giving a quick thank you to the two men as they left the facility, “It'll be positioned in the Fright room,” he focused his gaze to Vincent, “Let's open it up and get it looking as new as possible!” 

A snort came from the back of the room as Demetri sauntered from behind the purple stared curtains, “Can you even open it?” The man stopped a few paces away, crossing his arms over his chest, “You can barely open up the cereal box.” 

“I can!” Jean fumed at his brother stomping over to the box. He gazed at it for a few moments before fruitlessly trying to pull and claw at the tape sealing the folds shut. Various grunts and groans came from him as he struggled with the box, at one point even trying to use his teeth to rip some of the tape off. Finally, after what felt like an hour of watching the poor man-child try to open it, Jean gave up, “I can't do it...” For once he actually sounded sad. 

Demetri rolled his eyes, glancing back to the cove, “Idiot.” Was all he muttered out, “How about you use something sharp to cut the tape? Like a car key or a scalpel.” “Who caries scalpels with them-” Jean paused in his words, watching as his brother pulled a scalpel out of his pocket, quick enough that he almost jammed it into Vincent's arm. 

“Hey!” Vinc jumped back a couple inches, pulling his arm farther away from Demetri, “Watch it.” 

The golden eyed male stared at Vinc for a couple seconds, then in one graceful movement cut the tape holding the box shut, “There.” He replaced the scalpel back into his pocket, “You need me to hold you hand for anything else?” 

“You would hold my hand?” Jean perked up, looking to his brother with a large smile. 

His brother gave him a sneer in response, “No you germ bag, I will never hold your disgusting hand.” 

When Jean opened his mouth the retort, they were interrupted by a very pirate sounding laugh followed by an accented voice, “So, what kind of new attraction gets to be added onto the crew?” 

The voice was new to Vincent as he glanced over to where it came from. In front of the curtains was Foxy, his frame slightly taller than Freddy's, the red-orange fur covering his upper torso why his lower legs were covered in something that looked like torn brown pants, “Better not be tryin' ta replace us, or I'll make ye walk the plank.” 

“Oh, no!” The threat went right over Tim's head, “It's going to be in a different room so you guys don't have to deal with it!” 

The animatronic fox gave Tim a suspicious look, the yellow eyes slightly narrowed at him, “That better be true.” As the two stared at each other, Vincent's mind urged him to go check what was inside the box, he was going to be in charge of cleaning it, so why not see what he was going to deal with. 

As he approached the box his nose was overwhelmed by a strong sent of death and decay, “Gah!” He covered his nose with his hand, scrunching his face up in disgust, “What is that? A decaying body?!” 

Tim, Jean and even Demetri glanced over to him, Demetri being the first to speak up, “Did they send my body here instead?” He was responded to with a disgusted looking from his brother and Tim, “I need bodies.” 

“Can't be,” Vincent continued to have the disgusted expression as he leaned down to open the box's flaps, “It came for Jean and Tim.” 

The golden eyed male shrugged, “Hmmm, right.” As he began to move the flaps open, the creeping feeling from earlier began to rise into his mind again, adrenaline beginning to pump through every artery and vein. The smell became more potent as the box's contents were slowly unveiled. 

When it was finally opened and the light shone on what was inside, Vincent's heart stopped, “No...” He stepped back, his eyes wide in fear, “No. No. No...” by now he was backed into the wall next to the stage, hand pressed to his chest, his expression showing pure terror, “Not that...” 

“What's wrong with him?” Demetri rose an eyebrow, stepping over to the box. He glanced down to the contents, then back to Vincent, “What, don't like the Murderer?” 

Vincent never took his eyes off of the box, at a crawling pace returned back over, fear still high, “I...” His voice shook as he tried to speak calmly, but to no avail, “I can't deal with that...” Vinc stopped only a foot away from the box glancing back down at what was inside. 

Laying inside the box was the horror of his nightmares, its body taller than the other animatronics or even any person he had met before. The eyes were closed emulating sleep though it was most likely inactive, mostly because the fact it wasn't screeching and lunging at him, but Vinc could still feel the horrific silver eyes watching him, “This is what you want here?” He glanced to the two bosses, anger and worry mixed in his voice, “This thing is not exactly kid friendly.” 

“You know of the Springtrap?” Tim spoke up, his attention moving from the box to Vincent, who's eyes were still somewhat wide with fear, “I didn't think you were old enough to know about Fazbear's Fright.” 

Jean added in, “Or was able to see it. It burned before it opened up to the public.” 

Vinc gave a deep frown to the two, returning his attention to the box, “I saw it once,” he gulped, keeping his hand against his chest, “My family got an early look at the place before it was supposed to open, and before it burned. My father was good friends with one of the higher up people in the company.” 

“I see. I bet it was interesting to see the place!” Jean smiled at him, but it was returned with a shake of the head 'no.' 

“It was horrible,” Vinc paused, “And not in the horror attraction way of frightening. I saw that thing inactive there, and after that day I had constant nightmares of it for a year straight... I still have them on occasion.” He let out a heavy sigh before leaning down next to the box, placing a hand on the edge, “Though I'll have to say this: I'm calmer than I expected I would be seeing this thing again.” 

“Well that's nice,” Demetri voiced in, bored as usual, “but I think we should get the Murderer cleaned up and in his cage.” The tech genus took another glance to the contents of the box, “That soot is going to be annoying to clean out of the chest cavity. So better get to work.” 

His half lidded eyes went to Vincent before being pulled away by the outburst of a sudden loud static sound coming from Foxy, “Damn it, Captain. You're glitching again?” 

“Wholly crap Foxy!” Bonnie jumped back a few inches moments after the outburst, “What was that?” 

The pirate fox snorted, pointing his hook towards his own head, “Ye expect all daisies and poetry ta come outta me mouth?” The pirate growled, looking to the side insulted, “Me programmin' must be glitchin' again, conflicting commands because I be a kid friendly killer pirate. They don't go tagether mate.” 

“Cause that makes a lot of sense,” Vincent rolled his eyes, going over to the cabinets holding up the soda dispensers. He crouched down, opening one of the cabinet doors and pulled out a few rags, “A kid friendly killer pirate. It's almost as brainlessly dangerous as letting the Springtrap roam free in the facility when it's full of young, innocent children.” His voice echoed with a bitter distaste, but his eyes still gave away his fear. 

Demetri sauntered over to Foxy, looking him up and down thoughtfully, “It sounds like something those idiots would do.” He then addressed Foxy, “How many times have you done that since the last update?” 

The pirate blinked, the eye patch falling over his eye at the last blink, “Ya mean the one a few moments ago or the group update ya did?” 

Demetri huffed, “The group update. The one today was not an update, it was deleting those eye gouging files.” 

Foxy blinked again, moving his jaw a bit, “What files?” 

“Not the point right now. When was the last time you glitched since the update yesterday?” 

The pirate nodded, understanding the question, “That outburst just a bit ago would be me first one since the update me first mate.” 

“Alright, so we are getting better.” Demetri nodded slowly, golden eyes watching Foxy's yellow orbs, “Let's have another look at your programming just in case. You should be away from gouging eyeballs out.” 

As he mentioned the words the pirate fox's eyes lit up, “I like gouging eyeballs.” 

That got the tech genus to groan, “Damn it Captain. We can't have that,” he then nudged the pirate a bit towards the direction of the cove before mumbling, “Unfortunately.”


	7. An Old Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's always good to see old friends, even if you didn't get along, or does it work that way?

Vincent sneered as he picked up a spray bottle of chemicals said to help clean the exoskeleton suit of the dirt and soot as well as reduce the horrendous smell, according to the golden eyed man, “Should have learned more about what I was getting myself into before I agreed on doing it.” He turned to the door out of the supply room, flicking off the light as he left. As he returned to the main party room he noticed both Freddy and Bonnie looming over the box. 

“I don't know...” Bonnie tapped his furry chin, eyes focused down on the box, “He looks kind of familiar but I just can't place it.” 

Freddy let out a hardy laugh, “Bonnie,” his band mate turned to look at him, “He's a bunny like you, just more decayed and... Well,” He narrowed his eyes trying to see the colors better, “I can't tell what color he's supposed to be.” 

“He's supposed to be golden,” Vincent chimed in, setting the bottle of chemicals on the near-by table, next to the rags he had obtained before, “A long time ago.” 

Bonnie giggled reaching down to poke the darkened nose, “Doesn't look very golden—looks more green-yellow-black.” 

Vincent ushered the two animatronics away from the box before they could poke it some more, “He'll be that yellow-green once I'm done cleaning him up.” 

Bonnie tilted his head to the side, “Why are you cleaning him up?” 

“Because,” Vincent went back to the table, picking up a rag and the bottle, “Apparently he's going into the Fright Room,” He pointed towards the back left door on the wall adjacent to the stage, “And they want him to look like he did back at the Fright Attraction.” He huffed, looking down at the animatronic in the box, “Damn, I'm going to have to get him out of the box.” 

Setting the supplies back on the table he reached into the box, wrapping his fingers around the shoulder of it. Next he lifted it up a bit so he could reach his other hand to grab it's back, his skin touching something that didn't feel like metal, “Oh great, I think I'm touching some bone...” His voice was thick with unamusement as he pulled the thing up into a sitting position, “This this weighs a lot for how damaged it is.” 

Inside his head his mind reminded him, _well if it is the real Springtrap it does probably have a body within it_. He shivered at the thought of there being a body within the suit, _that would explain the smell though_ , Vinc then glanced into the chest cavity, _also those globs that look like mummified organs. Lovely_. Proceeding with the process he moved the arms of the thing over his shoulders, grabbing the part that was the pelvis of the suit, hoisting it up onto the feet. 

“Can that actually stand up?” Freddy blinked, slightly tilting his head to the side, “It looks barely functional.” Vinc let the Springtrap stand on it's own for a few seconds before it started to collapse to the ground. 

Quickly he hugged onto the body, keeping it from completely collapsing to the ground, “Damn,” he huffed, leaning the animatronic against one of the tables, “I'll just clean the table cloth later.” Now, he was able to get a good look at the animatronic's tattered and singed body. Inside the decomposed chest was the organs he had been able to see when he drug the thing out of its box. The pink-red flesh organs had a slight black coat over them and he could see thin strings running vertically in the exposed chest—he couldn't place if they were wires or stringy tissue. The once golden colored body was now a decayed yellow-green, various holes, dents and scratches covering the body, some holes exposing the mummified flesh trapped inside. 

_For containing the body a person, I don't see much of him left_ , Vincent thought to himself, lifting up one of the arms, and in his other hand he grabbed the cleaning chemicals, _is his body really still in there_? 

As if Bonnie's train of thought was on the same line, the mechanical bunny repeated his thought, “Is there really a body in there? I don't see any bones in its legs or arms besides the endoskeleton.” Bonnie crept over to the inactive Springtrap, picking up the arm not being held by Vinc, “Why is there a body in him anyways? That's so mean to poor...” The animatronic gasped, eyes wide staring at Vinc, “I don't know his name!” 

“He is the Pur-” Vincent had to stop himself from continuing with what he wanted to say, “His name is Springtrap.” He chuckled a bit at the bunny, spraying a couple squirts of the chemicals onto the arm he held, “He was called something else before, but I don't remember it,” Vinc laughed again, picking up a rag, starting to rub it in circles over the surface he had just sprayed, “Hell, I wasn't even born when Fredbear was still active, or even when the Toy models of you guys were discontinued.” 

Freddy gasped, putting a hand over his mouth, “Profanity!” 

Which was replied with a small sort of laughing, “Sorry Freddy,” Vin pulled the rag away from Springtrap's arm, admiring his progress through the thick coat of grime and soot, “Excellent.” He nodded in approval as the yellow-green was beginning to become uncovered from the blackness, “It's going to look like the old thing instead of something like a shadow of itself.” 

“Can we make him purple like me?” Bonnie hopped up and down in excitement, “That would be so cool!” 

Vinc chuckled, spraying more onto the hand of the animatronic arm he held, “He's not going to be changing colors,” he paused the rubbing, looking at the recently cleaned area, “Well, he won't be changing from the suit color underneath.” 

Bonnie huffed out, his happiness fading, “Awh, but that would have been so cool to have another purple bunny!” 

“Why?” A sweet mechanical voice came from the stage, “Wouldn't he be competition if he looked just like you?” Chica stepped down from the stage, walking over to the group. 

Bonnie laughed, putting his hands on his hips, “He couldn't come close to my sick guitar skills!” 

Both Chica and Freddy rolled their eyes, Chica speaking up again, “I think it's best to keep him his color. It makes him unique.” The animatronic chicken stopped a few inches away from the Springtrap, looking him up and down, eyes emulating worry, “Though he doesn't look like he's in a good condition.” 

“We can ask how he is when he wakes up!” Bonnie beamed, his excitement returning to his red eyes. 

The other two animatronics nodded in agreement, but Vinc let out an uncomfortable groan at the thought, “I hope you won't be able to ask him.” 

Freddy rose an eyebrow quizzically, “Why not? Isn't that mean?” 

The man shivered slightly, shaking his head as he continued to clean the rest of the arm, “I'd rather not hear its groans, moans or hisses, and besides with how old it is, it probably can't even talk. If by some miracle it can talk,” he pulled away his hand, letting the cleaned arm fall down to Springtrap's side, “I don't want confirmation about how it sounds. Its lucky I just don't throw it out the door if it wasn't so damn heavy or my bosses wanted it.” 

The three animatronics exchanged glances between each other, then Freddy shrugged. 

Vincent let out a long sigh, moving to the other side of the Springtrap to clean the other arm, “How about you guys head back up to the stage,” he glanced slightly to Bonnie before adding, “I'll let you know if anything interesting happens.” Bonnie grinned, Freddy gave another shrug and Chica nodded her head, the three returning to the stage, but not before Bonnie gave Vincent a spastic wave. 

Vinc gave him a small wave back then let out a few laughs: Bonnie really was developing quite the personality. It was amazing to him, to see the three developing such unique personalities. From the stories Victor had told him about the old place, the animatronics had only one personality, a preset one—that was very flat and boring (in his brother's words)--and they had set lines which they could never stray from. 

It still left him flabbergasted that technology had grown so much since the 1980's when the first animatronic versions of the four were out; people like Demetri were creating things like his nanobots to assist in the growth of new organs and even body parts through stem cells, some creating such advanced AI's it gave personality and the ability to grow on this personality, emulate emotions and converse like a normal human being to a mechanical being. He let out another sigh, continuing to clean Springtrap's arm. 

After a few breaths of silence and half the arm clean, he spoke his thoughts aloud, “I wonder if your suit has any AI left in it, or if it functions. You were half an animatronic suit and half a wearable suit,” Vinc observed Springtrap up and down, starting with the fully intact ear, down to the feet then back up to its eyes, “A really old model, so your AI must really suck if it is there.” He chuckled, shaking his head, “but I guess we'll thankfully never know.” Finishing the arm, Vinc sat down the dirty rag on the table next to the bottle. He glanced around the room to find one of his bosses, turning his back to the partially cleaned animatronic body; he was going to easily run out of clean rags to use, they most likely knew where there were some more. 

Behind him, a voice slipped into the air, rough and broken, “H-how rude of y-you to say th-that...”


	8. He Awakens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sweet dreams are overrated. Reality can feel like a dream, but for others, reality is the true nightmare

The voice was hard to understand through the groans that seeped out along with each word, but just the voice itself caused Vincent to jump out of his skin, “W-what?!” He quickly whipped around staring wide eyed at the Springtrap, nervous to see if it had moved. 

On closer examination, he noticed nothing different with it, “It... It couldn't have been you saying that...” He gulped, trying to swallow down some of his fear, “Y-you're dead.” His blue eyes didn't leave the animatronic, the air around tense and thick with fear. 

“Your fear smells wonderful...” The voice purred in his ear, Vincent swatting at the air by his right ear, his fingers only meeting with the air slipping between them. 

He let out an annoyed huff, turning in slow circles in an attempt to locate the source, “Where are you?!” He growled out, eyes now narrowed slightly, “Show yourself. I'm not in the mood for games.” 

A chuckle echoed through the facility, low and amused, “You know, Vincent,” the man cringed hearing his name being said by this cruelly entertained voice, “If you keep talking to nothing, they'll think you're insane... Especially if you keep looking around like that.” 

“Where the fuck are you?” Vinc balled up his fists, irritation boiling up, “Stop playing games...” 

Another dark chuckle came from the void, the amusement never leaving, “Look to your right.” Reluctantly Vincent agreed, glancing to the right, “No,” The voice hissed when he turned too far to the right, “Go back a bit.” 

Vinc sneered, crossing his arms over his chest, “What did I tell you. I'm not in the mood for games.” 

He heard a _tsk tsk_ from the voice, “Not much fun are you? Fine, just look a bit to your left.” His heart started to beat faster as his mind began to work towards the answer. When his eyes were met with larger silver-white ones, he felt like he had just thrown up his life and courage. 

He screamed out, falling onto the floor back first, “That-” he coughed a couple times, nearly chocking on his own spit, “That's not possible!” His heart thrashed against his ribcage even quicker when the cleaned fingers began to twitch, followed by a few flicks of the ears, “You... You're supposed to be-” he scooted away a few paces as he spoke, his mind screaming loudly at him to run, dropping the train of thought before he could get anymore words out. 

The silver eyes watched him, the body heaving itself up from the table it was leaned against, “Dead?” The low voice finished his sentence, the tone bitter, “You've pointed it out quite a few times already. It's quite rude to point that out Vincent.” He cringed again, still not liking the way the voice said his name, the same way it did in his nightmares. 

It made his mind curious though, that somehow this voice coming from the Springtrap was the same voice that his mind created for it. It seemed to convenient, but it hardly seemed to be a coincidence. Vinc shuddered at the thought that perhaps it was on purpose the two voices were the same, his eyes moving away from Springtrap. 

In that few seconds where their eye contact broke, he felt a large hand forcibly grab his chin, yanking it up so he was staring up close and personal into the silver eyes. He let out a whimper of pain and fear, trying to struggle free, or at least get up so his legs wouldn't start aching. 

As if the Springtrap predicted exactly what he was trying to do, he was forced up onto his feet by the one hand that gripped his jaw. Letting out a grunt of pain he instinctively grasped the hand on his jaw with both hands, “Gah...” He jerked slightly as he felt his body being lifted above his own height, his legs helplessly dangling in the air. 

Vinc tried to speak out some nice choice words for Springtrap, but was interrupted by a mechanical finger pressed against his lips, “Don't.” Springtrap chuckled, his jaw not moving as he spoke, “I have a good idea what you are going to say, so no need to soil your vocabulary with such profanity.” 

The silver eyes were half closed, partnered with the exposed teeth gave it a sinister grin. It was just like his nightmares, helplessly in the grasp of his worst nightmare, but this wasn't a nightmare—it was reality. 

“What is your problem anyways?” Vinc sneered, starting to struggle a bit in the grip. He could feel anger rising up in him: nobody was coming to help, not even Freddy and his gang. Perhaps it was part of this sick game Springtrap was playing with him, maybe it was all a dream—a very realistic one—but that didn't seem likely. 

Maybe, they chose not to hear his scream, or Demetri was the only one who heard it but per his sociopathic lack of emotions, didn't care. Though, as he sat there dangling in the air, one thought clung to him: out of all the people this killer could have chosen, all of the workers at the Fright attraction, all the security guards, all the mechanics, people who were there days longer than him, he chose a teenager who came in with his mother and father for an hour tour. It confused him more than anything else had before, including the first time he had a strange tingling sensations in his chest and lower parts when he saw someone he found aesthetically pleasing. 

“Oh don't beat yourself up about it,” Springtrap's voice crept through his rambling thoughts, “You were just the unlucky child for whom I found interesting. Such,” the silver-white eyes glanced up to the ceiling in thought, “Innocence,” the voice was mockingly sweet, immediately returning to the low humored tone, “In such a tortured soul. So much pain in your past, and yet, despite this, you are so kind, so... nice.” 

If he could, the Springtrap would have scowled at his own words, “And yet, it's not a facade. You really are that caring for other people.” A small snort of disgust came from him, bringing Vincent's face closer to his own, “That's what my 'problem' with you is. You perked my interest. If you worked as a little security guard at that fright place, you wouldn't have lasted a night with me...” 

Despite his chocking fear, Vinc had to let his sass slip, “Why would you kill me,” he smirked a bit, “if you are so interested with me? Wouldn't that take away from the fun of the game?” His voice was overflowing with sass, a slight grin replacing the smirk on his face. 

As quickly as it came, his grin faltered and vanished in response to the low hiss emitted from the animatronic, “I don't like what makes me curious, especially to the point you have. If it perks my interest,” Springtrap's jaw opened slightly, a deathly groan slipping out in the process, “I kill it.” The grip shifted from Vinc's jaw down to his throat, the male letting out a quick yelp. Even though the grip was not chocking the life out of him—yet—it still caused him to gasp for air. 

Once recovered from the shifted grip, Vincent hissed at the animatronic, no where near as impressive as the Springtrap's, “If you are going to kill me, stop mocking me and do it.” It was almost as bad as one of those cheesy movies where the villain divulged their whole evil plot to the friend of the hero before they killed them. Annoying more than anything if you asked him. 

He never felt the grip tighten on his neck, or any pain through his body. At least he expected to feel pain in his face as the animatronic jaws bit off a chunk of it, or another place like his shoulder. But nothing came. 

By this time, Vinc was getting sick of dealing with the unexpected and the suspense, “Really?” he narrowed his eyes at Spingtrap, pulling his hands away from the one around his neck, “You were so keen on saying that you killed what perked your interest, yet I am not dead.” The sass was creeping back up, but his mind retorted back at him, _What are you doing? You're trying not to piss him off and die._

The silver eyes watched his blue ones silently, this time the male didn't want to break the eye contact, he didn't want a worse repercussion for doing so like the last time. Finally, the animatronic spoke up, “You're a different case, boy. Only that fool security guard could hear me, but it took him near the whole week before he could make out a word I said. Then here you are,” the other hand reached up, gently pressing against Vinc's head, fingers slipping between strands of his purple-black hair, “We've just officially met, and you can perfectly understand me.” 

The animatronic let out a low chuckle, running the fingers down Vinc's hair, stopping just above the tie holding back the rest of his hair. 

“You're not that hard to understand if you get past the groans and annoying mocking,” He snorted, moving his face back a bit so he didn't have the corpse smell constantly bombarding his nostrils, “It's not an amazing feat.” 

Springtrap hummed with amusement, “Is it?” 

The man growled back, “Yeah, it's not.” 

“It's more than what you think, child,” the animatronic purred, running his fingers through the long hair again, this time forcing the tie holding back the hair to fall out, “I am not speaking aloud. The voicbox in this suit has been broken for years, the flesh vocal cords sliced a long time ago. If one of those fools came in right now, they'd only hear you... talking to yourself.” Springtrap hummed again, twirling a lock of the long purple hair between his fingers. 

Vinc sneered at him, “So you're saying I'm special since I can hear you right now? That because after a few hours of being near you I can understand your mocks?” 

Another laugh escaped the animatronic abomination, “Oh, it's been more than only a few hours,” he leaned in close enough that his forehead pressed against Vincent's, and unfortunately for Vinc he couldn't stretch his neck back anymore without serious injury, “It's been much longer than that. I would say now it's been five years, maybe six? Time has lost meaning for me trapped for eternity in this suit.” 

Vincent widened his eyes, starting to understand what he meant, “Y-you mean the nightmares?” He stuttered, feeling the panic rise back up, “How do you know about them?” 

“Oh, it's part of my nature,” Springtrap hummed, the silver eyes burning into Vinc's blue ones, “Part of my curse. Nightmares are what I give because, well,” He snorted, “Sweet dreams are overrated.” 

The blue eyed male inhaled sharply, squirming slightly in the grip now, feeling the panic rising higher and higher inside, “But why?” he swallowed, “Why me?” 

The jaw opened slightly, a low groan emitting from it, but before either one could make another noise the front doors slammed open, a loud voice calling out, “Put him down, Springtrap!”


	9. He Never Dies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Schmidt to the rescue, but how is he still so young after thirty years? We'll never know

Both the silver eyes and blue eyes turned their focus to the source of the voice, “Let go of him,” the voice sounded hostile and commanding, the man's blue eyes challenging the animatronic's. 

The man standing at the doorway stood what seemed to be barely over five feet tall, maybe five inches taller than five feet, his black hair slightly spiked up to the middle in a frohawk, slight sideburns running the length of his ears, the rest of his jawline clean shaven. He wore the uniform of a Fazbear night shift security guard: the dark gray-purple pants with the lighter gray-purple shirt and black tie, the classic security hat gripped in his hand. 

The man spoke up again, “Did ya hear me? Put the kid down.” He took a challenging step forward, his eyes never moving away from Springtrap. 

After no movements came from the Springtrap in letting go of Vinc, the man took another step forward, a growl coming from the animatronic. Finally, with much reluctance, Vinc was let go of, falling to the floor with a _thud_ , landing flat on his arse, 

“There, was that so bad?” The newcomer smirked, walking past the animatronic, holding out his hand to Vinc, “Here.” From the floor Vin lifted up his hand, taking the other hand, and pushed off the ground as the other pulled him up. Once on his feet he dusted off his jacket and pants. 

“Thanks,” Vinc sighed, glancing over to the Springtrap, noticing the narrowed eyes towards both of them, before returning to observing the other man, ”How did you do that? I don't think I could have gotten him to do that even if I wasn't petrified from fear, or in a throat hold.” 

The man chuckled, smoothing back his hair, just to have it return to its normal spiked position, “You just have to show them whose boss, and not give them satisfaction for being a douche.” Springtrap let out a low hiss, the eyes narrowing further at the man, “Yeah you're really scary there.” The man rolled his blue eyes, “Once you've worked with animatronics like him for a while, you know how to deal with them.” 

“You've worked with animatronics before?” Vinc rose an eyebrow, looking over the man from head to toe and back up: he did hold himself like he had lots of experience, but he barely looked older than him, maybe just turned thirty, “How could you?” 

When a wide smile slipped onto the man's face, Vinc was taken aback a bit, “I worked as a security guard at the old place all those years ago. Got fired but I still loved working there. Now, I know what you're thinking: 'how could you have worked there when ya barely look a day over thirty?' First of all, thank you, I know I look so dashingly young. Second of all, let me tell ya man, in a short story, I must have found the fountain of youth. I'm a bit of a thrill seeker, ya see, and apparently after one of my trips to a South American Village in Brazil, they liked me so much they gave me some water. Apparently it wasn't plain water, 'cause ever since then I've looked like this!” 

Vinc snorted, “Sorry if I have a hard time believing that.” 

The man grinned even more, “What you wanna see my driver's license? It'll have my birthday on there. But,” He held out his hand, “Name's Mike Schmidt. Mike to meet ya.” 

At the name, Vincent nearly coughed out his lungs from inhaling so quickly, a few coughs later recovering, “Wait, Mike Schmidt? I saw that name on the old employee records back from the old place when I was looking for some more current files. And well, my mother complained about somebody by that name a lot.” 

“Nice to know I have a fan,” Make laughed, “Now do you believe I am actually that old and not just pulling your leg?” He tapped the left leg of Vinc who chuckled in response taking the offered out hand in a hand shake. 

“We'll see. So far you are meeting the standards of what I've heard about you. I'm Vincent by the way.” Mike smirked slightly, letting out a small laugh, “What?” Vinc huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. When waiting for the other to respond, he took a quick glance over towards the Spingtrap, noticing that it was a little farther away from Mike compared to the distance between it and himself, _looks like someone isn't a fan of him_. He smiled bemusedly, then the voice of the other caused him to turn his attention back. 

“It's nothing. Ya just remind me of somebody I used to work with back in the day. He was a real charmer, but I could tell ya that behind that warm, friendly facade, there was a monster.” 

At that remark, the Springtrap let out something that sounded like a snort, “Yeah laugh it up big guy,” Mike narrowed his eyes at the animatronic, getting the silver eyes to narrow back at him, “I'm not the poor sap stuck like that.” 

In the most mature manner Mike stuck out his tongue, Vinc taking a step away as the Springtrap leaned in closer to the man with a challenging growl. 

Between the two of them glaring and exchanging angry sounds, Vinc felt a little out of place, “So, Mike,” he brought the others gaze away from the animatronic, “I'm guessing you're the night guard Tim and Jean were talking about.” 

Mike nodded in response a proud grin on his face, “Then why are you here so early?” Vincent took a swift glance to the clock hanging on the wall, “There's still nearly eight hours before you shift starts.” 

“Eh,” the black haired man shrugged, “Didn't have anything else going on today, so decided to check out this place. Ya know, wanted to see if it was anything like the old place, and to get to know the place I'll be looking after. I have to say though, looks pretty close to the old place, even have the same old wall style and the bland tiling on the floor—really dates the place, but I guess that's what they were going for.” 

Vincent had to laugh a little, taking a glance around the room why taking into account what Mike had said, “Now that you mention it, it really does look dated in here. Feels like I'm in an old-timey diner, but like you said, it's probably what they wanted. Keep the nostalgia alive.” 

The man shook his head, taking a step away from Springtrap, getting closer to Vinc, lowering his voice ever so slightly, “I guess you can say it would be a great place to date.” 

At this, Vincent turned to the man, complete confusion plastered on his face, “Excuse me?” 

“It's a pun,” Mike smirked, placing a closed fist on his hip, cocking it slightly to the side, “Since the place it dated looking, ya get it?” 

Vinc sighed, shaking his head a little, “Is this going to be consistent thing for you?” 

Mike's grin widened even more, “Oh it's a constant fountain of puns coming out of my mouth.” Vinc gave him a fake sneer at the idea of constant puns—he could take a few, in fact he liked making the occasional one himself, but a large number of them would be hard to stand—it did cause him to feel a little tight in the chest. 

Part of him was glad that Mike worked the night shift rather than the day shift, just so he didn't have to deal with the Pun Smith all day, but another part of him wanted him in the day shift, so he could learn more about what knowledge he had relating to Springtrap or even the other animatronics. 

He could easily talk to Demetri about it, but talking to him was a chore at times, plus the information he wanted was more about the older models of them, rather than the newly created ones. It was also unlikely that he would know much about the Springtrap, and if he did, he probably wouldn't share. For being a sociopath he sure knew how to manipulate the emotions of other people. 

It was one of his tragic flaws, to be utterly fascinated by things that gave him debilitating fear, of course expect for his claustrophobia: small dark rooms did not fascinate him, it was something that just terrified him enough that he refused to train himself to fear it less—not in a million years would he put himself in a small dark room. Screw that. 

The only fear he was really interested in learning about was the Springtrap: why he was so afraid of it, what it was, and how it came to be. These were common questions that had came up in his mind since he first met the thing. His mind craved answers to the questions, but unfortunately he never had an opportunity until now to actually be able to talk with somebody who seemed to have experience with it. 

Glancing to the table, he was reminded what he was doing before Springtrap came to life, “Shit I need to get that done.” He glanced to the Springtrap, feeling a bit uncomfortable by the fact he had to clean the fully awake animatronic, plus he had a lot more to work on. 

“What do ya need to get done?” Mike rose an eyebrow, following Vinc's gaze to the bottle of chemicals and rags, “Oh!” He let out a short laugh, picking up one of the clean rags, “You were supposed to be cleaning Mr. Ugly guy over there? Yeesh, that's going to be painful and a sucky job. Want me to lend you,” he paused in mid sentence, holding up the hand with the rag, “a hand with that business?” 

Vinc rolled his eyes, picking up the spray bottle, “God you're going to drive me crazy aren't you?” Turning around his face nearly collided with Springtrap's chest, “Fuck!” He recoiled back, shooting a deadly glare at Springtrap, “Why?” His voice came out demanding, looking up to the animatronic's face, “Must you scare me like that?” 

The Springtrap hummed, “Yes I must. It's quite enjoyable to sense your fear and anger. It's a familiar sound and smell to me, like that little security guard who played with his little screens in hopes to stop his demise.” 

“You okay there?” Mike tilted his head to the side, a few minutes of watching as Vincent glared up at the Springtrap, “You look like ya want to tear it a new hole.” 

Vinc shot the man a look, before softening his gaze, “Sorry, just dealing with the prick's constant mocking.” it didn't don on him until after he said it, that he was the only one in the room that could hear the animatronic's voice. 

Mike nodded slowly, “I see, ya hear him talk?” He paused for a few heartbeats, then started to laugh, “Oh man! Ya better watch out, you may start sounding like that crazy security guard!” 

“Do you mean yourself, Mike?” The Springtrap mused, Vinc snorting with amusement despite the distaste towards Mike and his words. 

The night guard ceased his laughing, “What? What's so funny?” 

Vincent pressed the sides of his fingers against his nose in an effort to calm down his snickering, “Mike, you are a crazy security guard. Seriously,” He shook his head sighing out, “You and the other security guards that worked at their respective locations for longer than a day are crazy. Let's stay at a job where there is a high chance of dismemberment and death.” Vincent rolled his eyes, sarcasm heavy in his voice. 

He proceeded to take in a deep breath, exhaling slowly to calm himself, “But in all seriousness, I know who you are referring to. Keith is his name: the only security guard of the night shift of Fazbear's Fright: A Horror Attraction.” 

His voice then took a serious tone, showing the distaste he was feeling in the moment, “I would think out of everyone, you'd believe what he spoke of and what he saw. Fazbear facilities have been notorious for being, for the lack of better words, 'f'ed up,' and that one is no different. Something about the animatronics.” 

He glanced accusingly towards Springtrap, and if it could change its facial expressions, it would have given him a different wide smirk than the permanent one he wore. 

“Huh...” Mike blinked, taken by surprise from the sudden roughness and anger in Vincent's words, “I umm... Okay ya got a point there, but I didn't go out babbling it out to the world of what I saw in the Pizzeria. I kept it to myself, and only spoke of it when the authorities came for questions after the place shut down. Who knows why they wanted to ask me, but they did. I can tell ya, though, the animatronics never tried to talk to me. They may have groaned a little, but never said anything.” 

Mike nodded in confirmation for his own words, Vinc opening his mouth to respond, but paused hearing Springtrap mumble, “idiot” having to stop himself from agreeing, “Maybe those groans were them trying to talk to you. Ever think of it that way?” 

Taking another deep breath, Vincent walked to the Springtrap, swiping up a clean rag, and sprayed some of the chemicals onto the half torn chest, the animatronic surprised slightly by the sudden action. 

He nearly slapped the rag onto the chest, swiftly beginning to clean the remaining parts of the suit, “Though,” Vincent decided to strike up another conversation in hopes to distract his mind from freaking out over the fact he was so close to his worst nightmare, “From what Keith says on his blog that he dedicated to the experiences at the Fright Attraction, he specifically came to the job to try to discover the 'truth' about the murders and if possible save the spirits of the children.” 

Springtrap growled, the silver eyes narrowing, “That fool was trying to save those brats' spirits? No wonder I wanted to gouge his eyes out, to rip out his intestines through his throat! To...” 

After those words, Vincent tuned out the voice as best as he could, Mike's voice coming in as a welcoming change, “Sounds like he's a real nut. I like attention, don't get me wrong, but I don't want the kind of attention that dude's getting. Didn't he voluntarily institutionalize himself?” 

“Yeah, apparently so,” Vinc answered, “also caused his nephew and niece to go back into foster care.” Vincent frowned, feeling that familiar pang of sympathy for the two kids. Moving down in the cleaning of the suit he sprayed the chemicals onto the hips of the animatronic, continuing on, “People were harassing him about what he was saying on the blog, and I guess it took a large enough toll on his mental health that he put himself in an asylum.” 

Mike chuckled leaning against a near by table, “Well that's what he gets for making a blog, there are poisonous people on the interwebs, I tell ya.” 

“The interwebs? Are you referring to the internet? What does that even mean, the 'interwebs?'” Vinc curled the corner of his mouth into a small frown, “Is that some sort of lingo?” 

Mike snorted, placing his hands on his hips, “It's a silly way of saying the internet, duh. But, ya gotta admit, the guy was not afraid to say what was on his mind. I had to sign a contract on the first night of work agreeing to the terms of the place, which included not talking about what happened at the Pizzeria.” Mike hummed with amusement as he shook his head, “Guess the new place wasn't as strict about that stuff as the time I worked at a Fazbear facility. The guy said everything to anyone who would listen, or approach him.” Vinc sighed, thinking back to the time he had spoken with Keith.


	10. Flashback: False Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having a good understanding to someone's past allows one to be able to know why they hate people, why they act the way they do. The real question: can Vincent really hate a person?

It was a few months back before Keith had put himself into an asylum when Vinc fist came into contact with him. Vincent had discovered the blog a few months after his nightmares of the Springtrap had started, but only eighteen months after the events did he contact the ex-security guard. 

At first their conversations were short and sparing, week passed between each reply, until they became more comfortable talking to each other. Finally, after two months of talking Vincent divulged why he had contacted him in the first place. 

_“I wanted to know what you found out about... It. That thing wandering around the facility.”_

_-“You mean Springtrap?”_

_“That's its name?”_

_-“Yeah, it was given that name after the spring locks failed, killing an employee before it was discontinued along with another similar suit, that one was a Golden Freddy known as Fredbear.”_

_“So you're saying this guy was like a Golden Bonnie or something before he became like that?”_

_-“Pretty much. I think he was called 'Spring Bonnie' or something like that.”_

_“Was he just like Freddy and them, an animatronic that went haywire after being possessed by the souls of dead children?”_

_-“Sort of in a way, but he's much worse than that.”_

_“Much worse? How can he be much worse than what Freddy and his gang did?”_

_-“He's their killer.”_

_“The killer of the kids? Like, the Purple Guy?”_

_-“Why do people call him that?”_

_“Eh, it's what the media gave him since they really never knew his name. Only that because he was Fazbear security, he wore purple. I don't understand how that is possible, that he's the Springtrap.”_

_-“I know it's him. He's drawn to the sound of a child, and it's not just the suit's functioning. He goes to the sound with intent to kill the child, not to play nicely. I've heard him, mumbling, saying things like 'where's the child?' and the even creepier 'I can hear you child.' as he follows the sound from room to room. And that's not all about him. I swear it's him and not the faulty ventilation system in the place, but I saw some of the animatronics, like that little boy with the balloons, but they were not actually there. Like phantoms, tricking me and drawing Springtrap to me.”_

_“Wait, they were Freddy, Balloon Boy, Foxy, Chica and the mangled up on that looks like a girly version of Foxy, right? But they are faded and missing some parts?”_

_-“You've seen them too?! That's not good. Where do you see them?”_

_“In my dreams. I saw them in dreams before I started seeing it. They lung and screech at me, but it's like they are warning me not attacking me.”_

_-“Hmmm....”_

_“I don't understand it, but it can't be a coincidence that both of us see it, especially since I never went back to the facility after the tour my family got.”_

It was days before he got another response from Keith, _“Sorry, I had to help my nephew and niece out with homework and getting all his musical instruments situated in the house.”_

_“It's alright, hopefully everything is okay.”_

_-“It's all good. But back to what we were talking about before hand. I never had an experience like what you described myself. The phantom guys were always attacking me, scaring me and causing one of my systems to crash. They just loved to crash my ventilation system. The loud blaring siren and the flashing red light always brought Springtrap near. I swear once I saw multiple of that thing wandering in the place.”_

_“What do you think it means?”_

_-“That I was hallucinating due to lack of oxygen.”_

_“No, I mean about seeing these things in my dreams. About...”_

_-“About what?”_

_“It's going to sound crazy...”_

_-“Just tell it to me, I won't judge you. I did go into a place related to a horrendous murder with that horrendous animatronic and stayed there for a week just to help out in figuring out what was going on.”_

_“You sound like the other security guards.”_

_-“I wasn't in it for the thrills.”_

_“From what my brother said about one of the security guards he was in it for the thrill.”_

_-“Oh yeah, that guy. He's a real asshole.”_

_“Haha, so I've heard.”_

_-“But, tell me what you wanted.”_

Vincent was hesitant to ask, not sure how to ask such a question of someone. He sat at his computer in silence for a few minutes deep in thought. The notification sound brought him out of his troubled thoughts circulating in his mind, _“You still there Vincent?”_

His blue eyes returned to the screen, then after a few more moments, he began typing again, _“I... I don't know how to phrase it. It's crazy sounding. I saw the thing once, and I've had non stop nightmares for the last year about it. It's always there in my head.”_

_-“First off, I'm not going to think you're crazy for that.”_

_“Thanks.”_

_-“Second of all, how do these nightmares go? You mentioned the phantoms, but what happens with the dreams involving the phantoms?”_

_“I... For a while it was just the phantoms. I could hear voices, the voice of young children, but I couldn't make out what they were saying.”_

_-“How long did that last?”_

_“Until a few days after the place burned. In the last dream I could make out a bit of what they were saying... Something about running from him, to save myself. To stay away.”_

_-“Can I ask you, are you spiritual?”_

_“No. I'm not religious.”_

_-“I didn't mean that. Do you believe in spirits?”_

_“Ummm... I guess so. I do believe that everyone has a spirit, and sometimes they are left behind if they still have something unfinished in this world.”_

_-“That may explain part of the dreams.”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_-“I'm not a dream expert, but I think that might have been the way the souls of the lost kids were calling out to you. They might have been warning you about their killer for some reason. Somehow you have a connection with it all, but it may not be a good one.”_

_“I don't have to worry about it right? The place burned down, most likely with that thing in it. And you helped the kids move on.”_

_-“Has the Springtrap appeared in your dreams?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_-“How many times?”_

_“Ever since the children left.”_

_-“What happened in the dream the first night it changed from the children to it?”_

_“There was fire everywhere. I heard the children, saw their forms just as they faded away into the light, but as they left, the light was consumed by darkness, leaving the shadowy figure of it. I... I heard a voice that quietly whispered 'You can't.'”_

_-“And after that you've seen him in your nightmares. Does he talk to you?”_

_“Yeah, a lot. It's voice is broken garbled sounds, tripping over words and stuttering, but it still talks to me.”_

Vincent frowned, almost feeling the despair coming from the man on the other side of the screen. 

_“What should I do Keith?”_ Another long pause from the other. 

_“I need to know what I can do. I can't continue like this.”_ He could feel his mind starting to panic, it was closing in on time for him to get to sleep, time for the nightmares again. 

_“I'm terrified to sleep. I'm starting to become paranoid.”_ Still nothing. The silence was too painful for him, the man who knew something that could help him wasn't responding. Tears threatened to pour out of his eyes, his hands shaking, 

_“Please...”_ The last response he ever got from the main was one simple word. 

_-“Sorry.”_

_Sorry?_ Vincent held his breath for a few moments, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks, _That's all you can say? You were no help at all!_ His thoughts raged in his mind, a mixture of anger, agony and anguish, throwing the computer mouse across the room, the wire connecting it to the machine stopping it from flying too far. 

What was he going to do now? He had a dark feeling he would never be free of these nightmares, free from It. Slowly he stood up from his computer, eyes wet with tears, his body feeling heavy from fatigue and sorrow. 

A voice came from the hallway in a harsh demanding tone, “Vincent!” It was a shrill old woman's voice, “Are you still up? You should be in bed by now!” 

He let out an annoyed sigh, wiping away the tears on his face with his sleeve, “It's not even eleven mother!” He snapped at her, glaring towards the door, “I'll be in bed soon, give me a break.” 

_Another day gone_ , Vincent frowned, sitting down on his bed, still fully clothed in his day clothing, _another night to suffer...._ He laid back on the sheets, staring up at the ceiling, until his eyelids became too heavy to keep open, drifting off into his nightmare filled sleep. 

This was nearly five years ago. Months after the last time they talked Vincent heard about Keith being institutionalized--somebody posting a link to a video on the news. The title boasted that “Fazbear Fright ex-Security Guard and Fanatic Finally Institutionalized” which gave him a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Now, there was little to no chance of him getting the information he needed from the ex-guard, to rid himself of the nightmares. 

The next months were filled with various trips to his mother's office, each of her little friends, and herself, belittling him and trying useless ways to remove the nightmares from his skull. One, he hated the man's living guts, even suggested shock therapy, something he said worked for curing people of being homosexual, so, in his words “could help your son be less psychotic.” 

It wasn't the fact that Vincent was psychotic, he was perfectly fine in the head especially considering his living situation, it was just something messing with him, either his mind or an external force. Of course, with his mother and father being the way they were, whenever he mentioned something about spirits they would scold him, verbally and physically. 

By the age of seventeen he had finally gotten the nightmares under control, various drugs and treatments done by his mother and friends numbing his mind, making him fear the act of sleeping more than the nightmares, but he didn't have the nightmares as often. When he did have the nightmares, he kept it to himself. He didn't want to have to deal with the pain again. 

Vincent would remain silent, reserving time after high school to fret and let the tears leave his system. It was a horrible way to live, but he survived it until the nightmares became only once a month if he was unlucky. 

Though, through the whole time, he still held a hate towards the man whom said he would help him through his pain, but left him to rot when he drained all of what he needed from the teen. This was something he was not willing to forgive, ever.


	11. Tricks and Traps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you get an animatronic suit possessed by a child killer into a room? Simple. Use a child! No children were harmed in the luring of this animatronic.

The night shift had crept upon the facility, and after hours upon hours of awkward cleaning of the Springtrap, Vinc had finally gotten him cleaned up enough that the old green-yellow suit was the only color showing on the body. Stepping back, he examined his work, “Hmmm...” He placed a hand on his hip, “Well that looks good.” 

Mike, who had been playing with a rag the whole time, took a quick glance to the animatronic. At first his blue eyes kept half closed, but widened as they focused on the body, “Wholly crap, just wow. He looks as new as he possibly can. Which isn't saying much, because he still looks like crap.” 

Vincent shot the man a glare, pointing the spray bottle at his face, “Don't take this from me Mike, I swear I will spray you in the face. I have been cleaning a living animatronic for who knows how many hours.” 

“It's about six hours,” Springtrap added in, “It was quite amusing the whole time. That fool played with one of his favorite toys, a rag, and watching you squirm with discomfort was quite entertaining.” 

Another glare came from Vinc, this time directed towards Springtrap. The clock hung around the room high on a wall read “11:48.” Luckily for him, Seb had ran into a couple of friends after school, so he spent his afternoon with them. As well, for good measures, Vinc told him to invite Mimi out as well, just so she wasn't cooped up in the new place all alone for too long. 

By now, he had also gotten a text from the kid telling him that he was at home and the two of them had a good time out. It made him smile, knowing that Mimi was quickly adapting to her new life with them. 

“Shouldn't ya be heading home?” Mike moved positions from against the table, right next to Vinc, tossing the rag into the pile with the other rags, “Got that little tyke ya were talking to earlier to take care of, right?” 

Vincent shook is head, gathering up the dirty rags, “He's home right now, just texted me a hour ago to let me know he was home. At this time, he's probably asleep in his bed. Kid's mature for his age.” 

The security guard nodded slowly, crossing his arms over his chest, “How did you even get a hold of the kid? I know you're his uncle and stuff, but did ya get him after his parents died, other reasons, or did you kidnap him and are holding him hostage?” 

“I'm not holding him hostage, sometimes it's the other way around,” Vincent joked, “It was other reasons why I got him.” He placed the rags into a bag to be cleaned later on. With a glance to Mike, whom gave him a look that said he wanted more details, he complied reluctantly, “His father was an alcoholic, his mother was in and out of rehab most of his life, and even though his sisters were older than him, they had their own problems. After child services came after an...” He paused, “Indecent, involving his father and his older sister, his parents were seen unfit to take care of him and his sisters. So, as you can tell, I got custody of him. His sisters are emancipated and mostly live with their friend's families.” He frowned deeply, “Poor kid walked in on what his father was doing to his sister.” 

Mike grimaced, “Ew. How is that kid still functioning? Personally, I would have punched the life out of that guy.” 

Vincent snorted as he walked over to the Supply Closet, the bag of rags in hand, “He was only five at the time.” Swiftly he opened the door, threw the bag into the closet, and went back over to the other male, “Besides, he was terrified of his father at the time. Didn't want to get beat like his mother or sisters.” 

“Ah that would make it hard.” Mike chuckled, plopping the security hat onto his head, positioning it so it was straight and professional, “I'd love to meet this kid someday. Sounds like a badass.” 

Vincent rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time, “I don't think I'd describe him using that term, more of a trooper than anything else.” He smiled a bit—he always did when talking about his nephew. Sebastian was his light in the darkness, pride welling up inside of him whenever he saw, or heard, how well the kid was doing in his life. It was just like having a kid of his own, but without the romantic partner, changing the diapers, or the pain of the “terrible twos.” 

Reaching into his pockets, Vinc felt around the cloth interior for his keys, making a final check around the room since he needed to go home to his nephew and Mimi. When his fingers never met with the metallic surface, panic began to rise in his mind, “Crap! Where are my keys?!” He began to frantically look around, checking each table and crevice. 

Mike exchanged a glance with Springtrap, giving a devious grin to him, the animatronic snorting and rolling its eyes. As Vinc continued to search he gave the occasional accusing glance towards the Springtrap. After a few more glances from the frantic man, Springtrap growled, taking his attention away from Mike, eyes narrowing, “You think I would waste my time by hiding your keys, even if it meant causing you panic? Although...” he hummed, gaze following the man as he went to the supply closet, “With the amount of panic it is causing you, I wish I did. Honestly though,” the animatronic placed a hand over his chest, “What kind of man do you take me for?” 

“I don't know!” Vinc continued his glare as he reentered the room, “You're the criminal mastermind here, not me!” Then he paused, giving the animatronic a disbelieving stare, “You're not a man.” 

“I am so a man!” Mike chimed in, puffing out his chest as he stood between Vincent and the Springtrap, “Oh, wait.” He chuckled a little, looking between the man and the animatronic before putting his arm around Vinc's shoulder, “Right. You're talking to the jerky animatronic. Yeah, it's not a man.” he then added under his breath, “At least not fully a man anymore.” 

Vincent let out a hum in response, looking over at Mike, “What was that?” The security guard cleared his throat, “What was what now?” Vinc narrowed his eyes at the man, “You said something under your breath, something about not being fully a man. I do hope you are referring to the Springtrap and not me.” 

“You know about that? Well duh, Mike,” he slapped himself on the forehead, “You've been cleaning the thing for the whole day, ya probably already saw the remaining man left inside.” Mike grinned, standing uncomfortably close to Vincent, “Yeah, nasty business from what I've heard. Gotta be painful as hell to have those parts jam through your own, pushing some parts out why slicing through others. Not to mention he probably doesn't have his family jewels anymore.” 

“Oh god no...” Vincent grimaced, feeling sick just just thinking how painful it was, how disgusting and bloody the messy death would have been, and adding on the part mentioned by Mike made it even worse, “Ew. Just no...” He stuck out his tongue in disgust why the man next to him laughed like a maniac. 

It was only moments after that he remembered why he was frantically searching around the facility, “Oh, Mike.” The guard perked up at his name, “Have you seen my keys?” 

At the mention of the keys, the grin on Mike's face grew, pulling out a keychain from his pocket, only a few keys on it, the one between his fingers having a slight purple hue, “You mean this?” 

Vincent growled, swiping his keys out of the other man's grubby grip, “Give me those you jerk.” 

“Told you,” Springtrap purred, the broken ear twitching slightly, hearing the chime play as it struck midnight. 

Vinc let out another growl, this one much quieter and calmer than the last, “Damn I need to get home.” He began walking to the entrance, before stopping at a realization. He was missing a crucial part of closing down the Pizzeria for the night. Springtrap. It probably wasn't smart to give a murderous, possessed animatronic free reign of a large facility with, Mike, out of all people, in it. 

_Maybe I don't have to worry about him killing anyone. He's avoiding Mike like the plague._ Vinc chuckled internally, _but it wouldn't look good on my record if I left the thing in the main room to scare the bosses when they came in the morning. Even if it's not an impressive feat, I don't want to ruin my chances at keeping this job for a long time or even before the place officially opens._

Turning around he focused on Springtrap, “You need to get into the Fright Room at least, if not in your display case.” Heading to the back room, he glanced over his shoulder to notice the animatronic wasn't moving, “Seriously? You're going to be a jerk about this too?” Letting out a heavy exasperated sigh, Vinc pulled out his phone, typed in a few things, then went into the Fright room, leaving the door open. 

From the room came the sound of a happy child laughing without a care in the world. It was even more effective in drawing the Springtrap to where he wanted than calling his name out, for the animatronic stiffed up at the sound, the legs beginning to whine and creek as they began to work, moving the body in an off-step shamble to the room. 

Mike, still standing where he previously was, watched with amusement as the animatronic left, “Heh,” he itched his nose, “Stupid zombie animatronic.” 

The animatronic stalked into the Fright room, eyes darting across every surface for a sighting of the child. The sole thing the scanning eyes found was Vincent, standing behind a large glass dome, the reflection of the light above revealing its presence. The animatronic abomination let out a low growl, hunching down, “Where is the child?” The silver eyes narrowed focusing on the man, “Where are you hiding it?” Sighing, Vincent held up his phone, pressed his finger against the screen, and the child's voice called out again, this time saying “hello.” Perking up again, the animatronic went forward, drawn closer to the sound. In mid stride, Springtrap's face collided with the clear surface. 

“Welcome to the display case,” Vincent tried to sound snide, but his voice shook slightly, afraid of Springtap's possible rage. Quickly he moved to the other side of the case, closing the transparent door, not giving time for it to sink into what was left of the mind inside the suit where he was. 

Once it had sunk in, a low dangerous growl emanated from the animatronic, “You little...” The eyes watched him closely, anger thick in the voice echoing in his mind, “You think you're clever don't you? Using that damned voice against me just like that fool did?” Vincent took to a step back when the broken animatronic body slammed into the clear surface of the case with a loud thud, but despite the force it didn't shatter. 

Grinning slightly, he raised a hand, knocking against the case a few times, “Good luck breaking that. It's like bulletproof glass, if not better. I don't remember what it's made of, nor do I care, but,” He placed a hand on his hip, “You won't be getting out of that.” Turning, he gave a small wave over his shoulder to the animatronic heading to the door, “Later.” 

He felt empowered as he left the room, but it quickly slipped away when the thing let out the signature screech. Vinc nearly jumped out of his skin, rushing out of the room and slammed the door behind him. Leaning against the wooden surface he rested a hand against his chest to calm his rapidly beating heart. 

“Well, that sounded fun.” Mike's voice right next to him caused the poor man to jump again. 

“Damn it Mike! Don't do that to me! You're lucky I didn't punch you!” 

The man next to him laughed, slapping him on the shoulder, “I'm quite the lucky guy, and I always get the punch line.” Stifling a yawn, 

Vinc shoved Mike playfully, “You didn't get it this time,” then headed to the entrance once again, “Just don't do that again alright? Next time I will punch you. Hard.” 

He stopped by the door when the security guard spoke up, his voice cracking a bit, “Hey,” Vinc glanced over his shoulder, “Maybe sometime you should join me one night for the night shift. Some shifty stuff happens during that time.” 

Rolling his eyes one final time for the night, Vinc gave the man a quick wave, “Good night Mike.” 

As he left the building the guard shook his head, trekking back to the security office, “Maybe next time.”


	12. Flashback: First Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blast from the past: take a trip back to the time of the Fright Attraction, and find about how Vincent met the Springtrap.

His eyes felt sore, his body aching and groaning as he slipped into the suit, watching with glee as they stood there, not knowing what to do about the turn of events. They had caught him by surprise, but he had bested them, hiding within the suit he used to lure them away. A low laugh slipped from his lips, starting out quiet but began to grow into a loud insane giggle. He could feel something was off, that something was going to go completely wrong, but he couldn't pinpoint nor did he care at the moment. 

His body shook gently from the sudden shock of the spirits, but it slowly grew into tremors as he left his body gave in, pain searing through every muscle, every nerve screamed out slowly. Blood spilled out of every artery in his body splashing against the black and white tiles in large globs. Chunks of flesh and bone were forced out as the mechanical parts locked into place. He screamed, crying out and begging for the pain to stop, his pleas muffled, unable to be heard. They sat there, watching with their eyes unchanging from their wrath and anger towards the man who killed him as the body fell to the floor, still twitching. 

Was it really his best idea, to return to the place where his favorite kill happened after the events? His mind began to slow, his thoughts becoming sluggish and broken. They had finally caught up to him, and he was caught. It wasn't possible! He had meticulously planned the murders so he wouldn't be caught, so he wouldn't face judgment for his dangerous and deadly hobby. He had his pleasure, his ecstasy, killing those kids so many years ago, and had gotten away with it... Until those suits came to life, began to act differently, acting just like those brats. 

It started out with seeing Fredbear, the eyes inside the suit human and bulging out, rolled up to expose the whites of those beautiful brown eyes. It was only a hallucination the first night he was on guard duty, since the suit was locked away with the other spring lock suit, but then the others started acting strange as well. The damned pirate lunging at him multiple times barely being able to close the door before it was at the doorway, that little bird staring through the window beak open and eyes gazing accusingly into his own. Worst of all was that damned bear, those white pinpoint dots staring into the camera as that bunny hopped from room to room, all four intending on getting into the room with him. He thought it to be over when he dismantled those damned animatronics, slashed and broke the frames, bits of bones that was all left from his favorite victims falling out. 

It wasn't over though, far from it. Now he could barely perceive the souls of those beautiful dead children, watching as the twitching of his trapped body began to simmer down to just a few here and there. Truth was in his thoughts, it was far from over, he would not let it be so. He could barely sneer from the pain of the metal spikes jammed up into his jaw, cutting through his cheeks, but he couldn't stop himself from grinning. It was far from over. With one last heaving breath, his body went still, his mind fading into blackness. 

The next thing he could remember there was a distant voice, one of pure excitement, “I think I found something dude! Get the crowbar and let's get it open!” The voice was followed closely by the sound of boards being pried off the wall, clamoring down onto the floor as they were removed one by one. Then, a focused stream of light illuminated the room, and fell onto him, “Woah!” The man holding the flashlight awed, “Jackpot! We found a real one!” Quickly the two men lifted his prison off the ground and out of the room, apparently not affected by the smell or the globs of dried blood, as they hauled him to a new place, far from the old Fazbear facility. 

It was a few hours after being moved to the new facility before the same voice came into focus, just as excited as he was before, “Ah, Mr. Valenteno! Welcome to Fazbear's Fright! I'm glad you and your family could make it here! Looks like your son and daughter couldn't make it, but at least you and your wife did! And who's this guy with you?” 

“This is my youngest son, Vincent.” a new voice spoke up, most likely Mr. Valenteno. The man from before gave a quick hello to the kid, followed by the question, “How old are you Vincent?” When the boy spoke, something in him perked his interest, feeling life course through his maimed body, “I'm fifteen.” The boy sneered at the question, his voice having the same tone as his did at that age: a caged rebellious spirit with a hint of power, but something broken, something missing from his life. Quickly the boy was corrected by a snappy, familiar voice, “Vincent! That is no way to talk to somebody!” _Is that Victoria?_

“Sorry,” the boy sounded sincere, but he knew better: deep down the kid was far from being sorry. The first voice laughed, “It's alright, really. He's a teenager, he's gotta be a bit rebellious, otherwise he's not a real teen. So, how about we get that tour started?” 

“Let's.” Mr. Valenteno replied, shortly after footsteps approached the room he was held in. The man from before appeared in the doorway followed by three people, an older couple and a teenager lingering behind them. When he got a good look at the woman he let out an annoyed huff, not even a whisper of the sound coming out aloud, It is Victoria. _Well, well. And I bet she has that lovely little husband of her's._ He glanced to the older male, recognizing him, _Ah yes_ , he growled, _still married to the successful “talented writer.” Please, that fool Allen may be able to write, but he's a weak idiot with no sense of direction in his life._ His thoughts were heavy with distaste and bitter sarcasm, _but this kid..._ his gaze when to the teenager, noticing how he was standing—a few feet away from his parents with his hands in his pockets and glancing off to the side away from the elderly couple. This kid wasn't happy with his parents, though he couldn't blame him. After the events that caused he himself to lose contact with his own parents they warned all family members to stay away from him, though Victoria always brought her little brat to the Pizzeria, so he was able to get a bit of information about what was going on with that part of the family. His mother had died, he knew that much, and his father had passed on a few years after his mother. Victoria, though having the distaste for him for what he had done, kept bringing her child to the Pizzeria, constantly blabbing on to the child not to go near the security guard that looked like he could be related. 

“He's a monster,” He could always hear Victoria say to her little brat, “Don't get too close to him. I don't want to find you a mess or with your pants down.” Still, the child would come bother him, tell him stories about the family, even when he didn't care to hear about it. 

_Not their oldest brat Victor, that child never was this well behaved. Can't be the child they were expecting the last time I saw them, they were expecting a girl. So that makes you, Vincent, their newest child._ He chuckled internally, continuing to watch the boy, the words of the man before escaping his focus, until one simple phrase caught his attention, “Yup, it's been thirty years since the closing of Freddy Fazbear's.” 

_Thirty years? He gasped slightly, rising his ethereal form into the air, _It's been thirty years since those brats got the best of me?_ He growled, clenching his hands into fists. It had felt like he had been asleep for a couple days, but thirty years? It seemed impossible to him, but the aging face of Victoria told him a different story. The last time he had seen her was when she was pregnant with her daughter, and much younger looking. _

Though, it was quite impossible that he himself was still conscious of the world around him, that he was still in the world of the living why he was dead, supposed to be in the afterlife. If this was the afterlife, it was a real messed up version of it, still trapped in the damned suit. He was able to create a manifestation of himself in an ethereal form, but he had no control of his suit imprisoning his body, nor could he be perceived by others. He tried to float over to the group, but was cut short by a force pulling him back to the suit, damn. It was frustrating for him, to have bested death but he was unable to prove it, to continue his work. It was all part of those brats' plan, wasn't it? It had to be. They were the cause of this end, and more than likely the tether that kept him here, kept him trapped in the suit. Although, perhaps, in his luckiest of moments, he was the reason he didn't pass on into the afterlife. His job wasn't done, there was still more to do. 

When his focus returned to the world outside of his mind, there was only the boy left, standing only a few feet away from his prison, blue eyes examining him, “What are you?” The boy frowned, reaching a hand out to touch the suit, “You're not any of the original guys, but you're kind of like Bonnie...” When his fingers gently brushed again the surface of the tattered suit, both him and the teen felt a surge of energy rush through their body, scaring the boy as it happened, “W-what? What was that?” His eyes were wide as he continued to crouch in front of the suit, his muscles tensing up slightly. 

_“What did you do...?”_ He growled to the boy, the astral spirit rising up, challenging the boy. In response the teen fell flat on his arse, staring up at him in horror, “I-I... H-how can you talk? How are you there?” He felt slightly insulted by the question, “I can talk fine, nobody else can seem to hear me. Such a rude question.” blinking the teen scooted closer despite his fear, curiosity in his wide eyes, “You're the man inside the suit.” He stared up at the ethereal manifestation instead of the suit, meeting the gaze of the spirit, “The spirit, but you...You're trapped.” _Hmmm... this boy is perceptive_ , he mused, “Indeed I am. And you are Victoria's newest child.” 

“How,” he paused, “How do you know my mother?” The teen's voice was thick with curiosity by now. Before he had a chance to reply to the question, the nagging voice bellowed from another room, “Vincent Miles Valenteno! Get your ass over here!” Frowning deeply the teen hesitated at first, his eyes showing his desperation to know the answer, but after another call of his name, he got up, quickly fleeing out of the room. Once again, the trapped spirit was alone. 

He let out a low chuckle, watching the boy's figure disappear behind the wall, “Because, dear boy,” He purred with amusement, “she's my niece.” 

Unlike his family, the boy seemed to be open to new ideas, to those who are beyond life. This fact perked his interest even more—Vincent was just like him, broken, angry at the world, and even charming perhaps. Though, there was one blaring difference: He could see no dark intentions in the teen's mind, no darkness staining his soul. His soul flickered off into bright orbs, a soft violet color as the teen moved around, but on the inner light it was darker, clumps a darker violet, but the color could never be considered “dark.” Glancing to his own ethereal body, amid the purple growl of his soul was a darker core, corrupting the lighter parts of his outer shell. He really was evil to the bone, but much like the teen, the world had done this to him, caused this darkness to consume his soul. It was the world's fault nobody understood his violent tenancies or how he came on violently, it was its fault he was that way. The world brought him to take on the hobby of watching the life leave such innocent eyes, getting addicted to the sight of an innocent death, and ecstasy, his only release of tension. Vincent, however, didn't show his distaste for the world in such ways. He wasn't quite sure how the boy took out his frustrations with the world, but he could tell it wasn't violent, only violence was given to him. 

Somehow this kid hadn't exploded, breaking into a horrendous bloody rage, just keeping it all bottled up inside. Perhaps, he grinned, licking his lips with anticipation, _I can teach the boy what he should do. Show him how the world should fear him, just like they feared me. Give him a reason to show the world who he is. Hone that anger building up inside him... A new puppet to play with..._


	13. The Grand Opening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the grand opening of Freddy Fazbear's Family Pizzeria! Nothing can go wrong, right?

Vincent woke up to the weight of two children throwing themselves onto his bed, both overly excited, babbling on to each other. It was near impossible to understand what either child was saying as they were both talking loudly at the same time, besides the fact the two had pulled him out of REM sleep. Groaning he gently nudged one of the mass of children next to him, getting a squeak of protest from the boy, “What are you two babbling on about?” His voice was groggy and low, half opened eyes barely keeping a gaze on the kids, “What are you doing up so early?” 

“Uncle Vinc!” Seb whined as Vinc began to lay his head down against the pillow, grabbing the man's face with his tiny hands, “Don't go back to sleep! Today is a very important day!” Lifting his head up again, he sighed, pulling his body up into an upright position, “Fine, fine.” He rubbed his eyes, letting out a big yawn, “I'll humor you: what's so important about today?” The young boy fell over on top of his uncle, squealing with delight, “Freddy Fazbear's Family Pizzeria opens today!” 

“Shit!” Vinc suddenly burst out, throwing the covers off his body, almost doing the same with Seb, and rushed out of the room, cursing under his breath. 

Seb, now belly up on the other side of the bed blinked a couple times before turning over, “Uncle Vinc!” He called after the adult, “What's wrong?” Mimi, who was at the end of the bed, one of the sheets now draped over her head, giggled, “Vincent, it's only 5:50. It's not that late.” The petite girl pushed the covers off her face, a smile stuck on her bright face, “The place opens at 9:00. You said you didn't have to get there until 7:00.” 

“That's when other employees have to get there,” Vincent replied, his words slightly muffled by the toothpaste and toothbrush jammed into his mouth. He spit out the concoction of toothpaste and saliva into the sink, rinsing the brush as he continued, “I need to be there at 6:30 for the 'Grand Opening Debrief.' Bosses want to do some sort of welcoming speech or who knows what to the employees before the place officially opens.” 

He reappeared in the doorway, pulling off his night shirt as he entered. Sebastian gave his uncle a wolf whistle as he fully took of the shirt, “Cram it kid,” his words were hostile, but his tone was thick with sarcasm and affection, “You two get dressed, you can come with me to work. They're allowing family members to come early with employees, and there is going to be breakfast provided for said people. So, get your butts moving,” At a shooing motion from Vinc, Seb dashed out of the room, Mimi remaining in her position, already fully dressed, “Done.” 

Vincent took a quick glance over to Mimi as he took off his pajama bottoms, pulling the purple suit pants out from the lowest dresser drawer, “Wow, you're fast at getting ready in the morning,” He smiled, pulling the pants onto his legs, zipping them up, “You look beautiful in that new outfit. Very elegant.” The girl blushed, hiding her face behind her brown locks, quietly whispering, “Thank you, da-” but stopped herself from finishing. 

Vinc let out a curious hum, glancing back over to Mimi, his shirt half buttoned up, “What was that?” He rose an eyebrow when the young girl didn't respond, “Hmm, alright then. Well,” he finished buttoning up his shirt, Sebastian coming back into the room half dressed, “First of all, Seb get some socks on your feet before your finish tying up your shoes, then get a jacket because it's a bit cold outside and I don't want you to freeze,” the kid let out an _awh_ , then returned to his room, “Second, you will need to grab a jacket as well, I don't want kid-cicles. Third,” he glanced around his room, “Where is that damned tie?” 

Huffing, Vinc crawled over his bed, rummaging through the nightstand drawer on the other side, “Ummm... Ah! There it is!” He pulled out a dark purple-black tie stripped with varying sizes of gray-purple stripes, “Thought you could get away from me, did you?” He decided to stretch his back why he was still laying on the bed before getting up, “Luckily, I get to wear this instead of a bow tie,” he began to tie the tie around the collar of his shirt, “I look ridiculous in one of those.” 

“But bow ties are cool,” Seb piped in, this time coming into the room fully dressed and ready to go. Vinc snorted as he finished up the tie, moving to pick up the purple suit jacket, “They don't look 'cool' on me. Bow ties are part of the waiters' and waitresses' attire only. Other employees don't have to worry about that.” Slipping on the jacket he took a quick gander at himself in the mirror, “Suits are annoying, but anyways!” He picked up both kids in either arm, dragging them along with him out of the bedroom, “We're off!” He made sure to say those words in the most dramatic fashion. 

On the way out they were met with a dramatic meow from a short legged tabby cat, “Oh, well...” Vinc glanced from between each kid and then to the cat, “This is awkward,” he joked, getting another protesting mew from the cat. 

It didn't take long for the situation to be resolved: now the four of them, including the cat, were in Vincent's purple car and on the road to the Pizzeria, “I'm not sure they will allow the cat in the place Mimi.” He smiled gently to the girl as she clung onto the small cat tighter, “But we can't just leave him outside, he may get lost!” 

Seb popped his head up between the headrests of the two front seats, his expression showing that he was still unhappy about not having shotgun, “It's a cat Mimi, they are great at finding their way home and other things... Or is that dogs?” Vinc held back a laugh at the statement, Seb continuing, “How do you know it's a male anyways? It could be a female cat?” 

“It's a male,” Vincent cut quickly into the conversation, feeling that a talk about what makes it a male cat a male, would be for a much later date. Both kids shrugged, Seb speaking up, “Alright, I'll take it: Uncle Vincent knows best.” Vincent sighed, pulling into the west parking lot of the Pizzeria, “Wait!” Sebastian's voice came out so loud it caused both Vinc and Mimi to jump in surprise, Mimi letting out a short scream, “You work at Freddy Fazbear's Family Pizzeria?!” 

Stopping the car, Vinc gave a stern gaze back to the kid, the kid sinking back into his seat with a small frown, “Sorry. I remember: don't yell in the car especially when it's in motion, or still running,” he added the last part when the gaze didn't soften or turn away. 

“At least you remember what I said, just need to learn to apply it,” Vinc sighed, heaving himself out of the car, “Come on you two, let's get inside.” 

The two children followed him close behind, eyes wide in awe as they entered the facility through the back door, “We get to use the secret entrance! Awesome!” Seb beamed as they passed through the doorway separating the outside world and the fantasy land inside. 

“It's just the back entrance, since the bosses are too ashamed of their employees to have them come in the front,” A familiar voice joked, footsteps approaching. Vincent laughed, walking towards the newcomer, “That's the secret reason between the employees, remember?” 

The male grinned, drawing out the first syllable of the word, “Right,” then focused on the two kids, “Hello there kiddos!” He knelt down, offering his hands, “You must be Sebastian and Mimi, the two tykes this guy takes care of. He probably talks a lot about me, since I am so awesome and handsome.” 

“Who are you?” Seb blinked, watching the extended hand suspiciously, why Mimi happily shook the hand offered to her. Mike grinned to Mimi before giving frown at Seb's response, “Ouch man, right in the heart. Name's Mike Schmidt. Mike to meet ya.” 

Vincent smirked slightly as Seb nodded slowly, “Oh, the guy who Uncle Vinc says makes too many puns and isn't that interesting, and strangely younger looking for his age, and may have a crus-” Vincent cleared his throat, signaling the kid to stop talking. 

Mike rose an eyebrow, leaning in closer to Seb, “What was the last part?” Seb shook his head, “Awh, come on kid, ya can tell me, I'm an honest man.” The kid shook his head again, “Ouch, in the heart again.” he grinned looking up at Vincent, “You trained this kid well.” Vinc his his smirk with a smile when Mike focused on him, “I've had plenty of years to train my young apprentice.” 

“I don't want to be a Sith though,” Seb grimaced, “I couldn't be that mean to somebody.” Vinc chuckled, ruffling Seb's hair, “I didn't mean Sith apprentice, I just meant an apprentice in general.” 

The kid nodded in realization, “Oh. Alright,” then grinned up to his uncle, “Can you show us around the place Uncle Vinc!” Mimi perked up at the idea, “Yeah!” Then for kicks Mike joined in, “Yeah!” The last one was responded with a strange look from Vincent, eyebrows slightly furrowed in confusion, “Mike. You know this place better than I do most likely. You don't need a tour.” The guard shrugged, “Eh, I just wanted to fit in, ya know.” 

“Of course you did,” Vinc let out a couple laughs before heading into the center of the main room, “Come on you two, I'll give you the tour before everyone else gets here.” Excited the children bounded next to Vincent, their eyes focused onto the stage, “Is that where Freddy and the band play?” Mimi was the first to begin the questions. 

Vincent nodded, “Yup,” then pointed up to the three TV screens hanging above the stage, “Up there on the screens you can see the show as it's going on from about,” he turned his back to the stage, pointing towards the end of the room where the stared curtains hung, “over there.” 

Squeaking with joy Mimi ran over to the purple stared curtains, gently running her fingers across the fabric, “Is this Pirate's Cove?” Sebastian quickly ran after Mimi, Vinc following but more at a slow walking pace, “Mhmmm, the one and only. Pirate's Cove also holds the Prize Corner where you can turn in tickets won from the arcade machines in the Games Room for prizes.” 

“Oh! Where is that?” Seb jumped up and down with excitement, “I wanna see that room!” Vinc beckoned the two kids to follow him, heading to the door on the same wall and closest to the stage, “Follow me. We'll have to go through the Fredbear and Toy Rooms, but we'll be there shortly.” 

Seb and Mimi bounded up behind Vinc as they entered a short hallway, the walls painted a darker gray than the walls of the main room, the same floor tile flowing into the hall and the rooms beyond. 

The first room they entered was the Fredbear room, pictures hung around on all four walls, and in the center of the room was replicas of the original two animatronic suits: Fredbear and Spring Bonnie, “Welcome to the Fredbear Room, based on the original restaurant Fredear's. In the center is the two mascots of the time, Fredbear himself and Spring Bonnie, his partner.” 

Seb gazed up in amazement at the two suits, “Are these the original ones?” Vinc shook his head in response, “Nope. The original suits were scrapped long ago, but the owners were able to get the schematics from their father, so they got somebody to make replicas of the suits.” Mimi awed at the golden suits, poking Fredbear with her small fingers, “He's so golden! Both of them!” She giggled, touching Spring Bonnie's leg. 

“Careful,” Vinc let his voice become a bit stern, “Don't touch those too much, or get used to it. They'll be fitted with a glass case so fingerprints and oils from the skin don't start corroding the suits.” 

Mimi backed away from the two replicas, returning to Vincent's side, “Sorry.” He smiled, putting a hand on her head, “It's alright.” The young girl then rushed to the other side of the room, “What's in the next room?” She vocalized her curiosity as she poked her head into the next room, “They look weird and girly.” 

Seb perked up with his curious expression growing, “What?” He dashed over to the doorway, standing next to Mimi as he gazed into the room, “Ew,” he stuck his tongue out, “They look so stupid.” Vincent sputtered, trying not to laugh out loud, “Those are the Toy Animatronics. A model between the original models of the four main and the second round of the original four's models.” 

“What?” Seb glanced up to his uncle, pure confusion in his voice, “That was really confusing.” Vinc sighed, rubbing his temples, “I'm not explaining it again, my head hurt just trying to say that correctly.” 

Mimi's giggle brought both their attention over to her, the girl standing in front of a display case, “I like this one though.” Inside the case was a smaller replica of Toy Foxy, but not like the other toys, “Ah yes, Mangle.” Mimi expressed concern, “Why are they called 'Mangle?'” Vinc sauntered over to the girl, blue eyes on the replica of Mangle, “They were a 'take apart put back together' attraction after an accident happened involving some kids ripping them apart. Apparently the kids were not happy about Mangle taking Foxy's place.” 

“Ah,” Mimi nodded slowly, her eyes soon falling to the next door, “Is the game room through there?” Vinc responded with a nod and went to the door himself, “Yup. Through this door is the Games Room.” He entered the large room, closely followed by the two kids, “Woah!” They both awed at the amount of arcade games, screens, crane games and many other kinds of games to play. 

Seb hoped up and down, running over to one of the older arcade games that had Fredbear on one side of the side panels and on the other Spring Bonnie, “This thing is ancient! And it still works!” Laughing a bit Vinc watched as the two kids stood on a stool in front of the machine, pretending to play it even though there was no coin inserted into the slot. 

In the midst of the happy giggles of the kid, Vinc felt a nauseous feeling wash over him. His mind started to throb, his legs feeling weak. His thoughts became blurred, a new sensation flowing into the electric pulses of his neurons, something that he didn't know he could be capable of. There was this dark sinister emotion falling over his mind, hearing a familiar voice coo in his mind, “So nice, isn't it? The children are so happy. You've given them so much... but now, it's time I gave you something.” 

And then, everything grew black for Vincent, the last thing he could remember was his nephew's panicked voice, “Uncle Vinc!”


	14. Giving of a Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to pick up, and a new complication has risen.

Consciousness began to return to his body, feeling his mind tingle with a strange sensation. Everything was numb and sore, but he could still move his muscles without them screaming out and not working. 

Lifting up his top half he propped himself up on his elbows, looking around his surroundings. All around him was darkness, his eyes unable to make out clear details of the objects around him. The room looked familiar to him, similar to the Fright Attractions rooms, but this one was much darker, of course, and had a different feeling to it. 

His mind began to throb again, pushing against the confines of his skull, his fear beginning to rise up again. The last thing he had remembered, he was in the Pizzeria showing Mimi and Sebastian the Games Room, and then... His head began to ache again, this one a sharp pang in the base of his skull. 

Now, he was in this place, and none of it seemed real; it felt like he was in a dream, walking on the darkness below him as he went to what could possibly be an outline of a door. 

Only inches away he was stopped, feeling a crawling fear go up his spin, and then something grab onto his leg. Screaming he reached down to grab whatever was holding onto his leg. When his fingers wrapped around the thing, he could feel something like muscles bulge underneath his grip and writhe underneath the surface of the extension. 

He felt another one whip onto his free leg, tightly wrapping around the limb, both pulling him out from under his feet as he let out a yelp in surprise. Colliding with the ground his back felt like it snapped in the middle as he fell to the floor. 

By now, he was in a petrified state of fear, his mind panicking on a way out, or at least a way to escape whatever was getting a hold of him. Another tight grip on his arm told him that there was another one, then another one on his other arm. He let out a screech of terror before a fifth one wrapped around his throat, cutting his scream short. 

The extensions tightened their grip on his limbs, beginning to pull him back into the darkness, hearing a low creeping groan come from the darkest part of the room. 

Vincent began to claw at the ground, searching for anything he could get a grip on to stop him from being dragged into the swallowing depths of the darkness. Despite his attempts nothing came into his grip, nothing sturdy enough to hold his weight as well as the dragging force of the extensions. The weight of his fear began to take a toll, his arms growing weak, his nails bloody and dirty from clawing at the floor: he felt defeated. 

His gaze shot around the darkness from where these extensions came from, unable to see anything in the black abyss but two large red glowing orbs from within. 

Vincent's hearts skipped a beat as the darkness began to change, the red glow becoming brighter, turning to a more violet-red hue, revealing two rows of sharp broken and decayed teeth, the extensions dragging him right into the open maw. Panicking he screamed out again, struggling against his confines, yelling out pleas, trying to curl his body up in to a defensive ball. The teeth reflected the red of the orbs in their rotted surface. 

The groan became louder as he was drug towards his doom, feeling a sharp pain slash through his legs as it was dragged across thin wires scattered in front of the teeth. Inches away from the impending doom, he shut his eyes tightly closed, expecting large pain to sear through his body, but was only met with stillness, the grip on his body loosening. His leg still throbbed with pain though, blood softly trickling down his flesh. 

“You're so afraid...” The familiar voice hummed, scaring the poor man even more, “There's no need to fear, child. I told you: I'm giving you something to help you.” 

Vinc's blue eyes shot open, seeing the decayed body of the animatronic looming in front of him. He held back tears of fear and pain, noticing he was now kneeling down on the ground. 

Gulping in large breaths of air he slowly stood up, wincing at the throbbing pain in his leg, put off by the fact that the thing of nightmares seemed to be... kind to him after the hell he had just put him through. If it was possible, the animatronic would have been giving him a sly smile. 

“What the hell was that for?” Vinc would have glared at the Springtrap if it wasn't for the fact he was still frozen with fear, “What are you doing, what did you do to me?” He froze, a new fear rising to the front of his mind, “What did you do to Sebastian and Mimi?” His voice cracked, anger beginning to well up. 

His pain caused him fear, that was something he wouldn't deny, but knowing that the two kids could be hurt or in trouble began to replace his fear with protective anger, “If you did anything to them I swear!” 

The animatronic chuckled, amused by the tone and stepped closer to Vincent, “You don't have to worry about me hurting the little brats. You'll go back to them soon, I just wanted a,” he paused to let out a low chuckle, “private conversation with you without children and without that glass.” 

“Well if you wanted my attention you didn't have to do,” Vinc glanced over his shoulder, noticing that the whole room was shrouded in darkness, the blackness spanning as far as his eyes could see, “Whatever that was back there!” He returned his focus to Springtrap, “it makes it a little hard to believe that you are trying to help me when you pull things like that, and I don't trust you at all! After what your image caused in my life,” he sneered, balling his hands into fists, “I don't want any help from you!” 

Springtrap snorted, resting a hand on Vinc's shoulder, “Listen child,” his voice turned hostile and raspy at first, but returned to a normal smooth tone when had realized the change, “I think we got off on the wrong foot with this.” 

The animatronic moved so he was behind Vincent, placing his other hand on the free shoulder. They stood like that for a couple heart beats before a purple glow emanated from behind Vincent. The hands on his shoulders became the same purple color of the glow, the fingers more slender and human-like than the animatronic fingers. Vincent, subconsciously, lifted up his own hand, wrapping his own fingers around the purple ones. He half expected the purple appendages to be translucent, for his fingers to go through them, but they clung onto them, feeling pure energy coming from them rather than feeling flesh. Vincent flinched back, retracting his fingers. 

Turning his head slowly his blue eyes met with the cold icy blue eyes of the spirit, face to face with him, the animatronic suit now absent. Inhaling sharply Vincent watched the spirit, noticing that his teeth, much like the large set he had nearly gotten munched on by, were decayed, broken and sharp like a tyrannosaurus. 

The spirit gave him a wicked grin, taking one of his purple hands and gently touching it to Vincent's cheek, “You remind me of myself all those years ago. Back when I had so many hopes and dreams for my future.” His voice went bitter, scowling, “Then the world had different ideas for me. The world is cruel,” The spirit leaned his head against Vincent's head, icy blue eyes gazing into the side of the soft blue ones, “To those of us who don't deserve it.” 

The man turned his head to face the spirit, glaring daggers through him, “You deserve all the cruelty you have gotten! You killed children!” If he was anyone else he would have punched the spirit out of anger, but Vinc just took a step back, bringing space between himself and the spirit, “You probably deserve an even worse punishment for killing those five kids.” 

A low chuckle rose from the spirit, the wicked grin growing on his face, “Five children? Is that what the media told you? That it was only five? Well,” he chuckled again, “I'll keep letting you think that.” 

Vincent grimaced, taking another step back, but the spirit appeared behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “But, let me tell you something child.” The spirit forced Vinc to turn around and face him, replacing his hand on his cheek, “Evil is not born, it is made. We do not start out the way we will be in the future when we are born. Our actions and the actions of others will shape who we are. The world makes us who we are.” 

“Great, I'm getting a deep philosophical conversation from the Fazbear Murderer,” Vincent rolled his eyes, feeling annoyed, “If I wanted a philosophical conversation I'd go back to college.” 

There it was again, his sass coming out from his fear. The spirit let out a low hiss, the purple glow turning into a violet-red, the icy blue eyes narrowing, “Listen child,” His voice was low and demonic, “How about you try to focus on this. My patience dries quickly with you.” 

Flinching, Vincent tried to move away from the touch, the other hand forcefully grabbing his other cheek, holding his face in place. Closing his eyes, the spirit began to simmer down, returning to the purple hued glow. 

Opening the eyes again they were calm and cold once more, his voice back to the smooth calm tone, his grip letting up a bit, “You don't understand when somebody is trying to help you. I want to give you a gift, something to help you out, so you don't have to worry about people hurting those you love.” 

Holding back a sneer, Vincent decided to humor the spirit, slightly interested when he mentioned protecting those he loved. He blinked a a couple times, “Fine. What is this gift you want to give me? If I don't like it, I will give it back.” 

The spirit hummed, fully letting go of Vinc's face, returning his hands to his sides, floating slightly above the male, “You won't want to give it back,” he added under his breath, “You won't be able to give it back...” Smiling, he held out one of his hands, offering it out to Vincent. The male hesitated, gazing at the extended hand like it was poison or a trap, something he would regret. 

When the other didn't take the hand, the spirit mused, “Nervous? I expect nothing less, but I would not lie to you, not now. I want you to succeed, to have a life I could never live. You must trust me on this. I may have been a murderer in life, and a nightmare in death, but deep down inside I want to at least help one person.” 

Inhaling, Vincent began to calculate what his options were: he could deny the gift all together, and risk the possibility of an angry spirit, or the gift would be forced upon him. He could always accept it and turn it away if he didn't like it. Perhaps, with how crazy it sounded, the gift would really help him. Exhaling slowly, he decided to take the risk. What was life without a little risk, perhaps the killer really had turned over a new leaf, give him the benefit of the doubt. 

Reaching out, he took the purple glowing hand in his own, shaking it once: “Fine. I accept.” 

Chuckling, the spirit placed his other hand on top of Vincent's, sandwiching the hand between his, “Excellent choice. Now,” the smile crept slowly into a grin, his body beginning to glow brighter, the glow snaking down his arms and wrapping around Vincent's hands. It began to crawl up his arm, covering his body in the warm purple glow. 

He felt panic rise in his throat, a bit of regret in deciding to accept the gift rising as well. He tried to pull away from the spirit, yanking his hand away, but his hand never freed. 

Vincent grabbed onto one of the hands holding his own, working on prying it off, “Let go! What are you doing?” His voice cracked with his words, going up an octave, struggling to get a grip on the hand. Vincent sneered slightly, challenging the gaze of the spirit, “You know what, I don't think this is a good idea. Take it back.” 

Before Vincent had another chance to talk, the spirit let out a low laugh, bringing his face in close to Vincent's, his voice sicky sweet and low, “There's no taking it back now, but do not worry,” finally he removed a hand from Vinc's hand, running his thumb against the male's jawline, “It won't hurt you. You'll just need time to get used to the changes however. After this, I bet we will become great friends.” 

The purple glow flowed all over his body, beginning to seep through his skin, causing his whole body to tingle oddly. He inhaled sharply, bits of the glow catching with the air he brought into his lungs. Despite the discomfort of being manipulated and lied to, he started to feel fuzzy rather than angry, his mind feeling like he just got a shot of dopamine. 

Vincent shut his eyes tightly closed, the panic being smothered by the tingling euphoria, “What... What is going on?” He blinked slowly, his eyelids beginning to droop. 

When he blinked once more, he was left in the darkness by himself, the spirit gone, “W-what?” His voice rose, darting his gaze over every inch of the shadows, “Where are you?” Gulping he focused his gaze on the hand that was previously held prisoner, noticing that there was a purple tint to his skin, a slight glow underneath the layers of cells. 

Vincent remained silent starting at his hand, finally speaking up in a low whisper, “What did you do?” he chocked back a sob, feeling like a complete idiot: he trusted the spirit of a man who took pleasure in hurting and killing people, what did he expect? 

Cursing to himself he fell to his knees, holding his wrist in one hand, still gazing at the purple tint in his open hand. It was a flaw of his to be too trusting, and despite all of the betrayal and hurt, he still gave everyone the benefit of the doubt. 

Soon he couldn't hold it back anymore, letting out a heavy sob, curling his chest to his legs, clutching his hand close to his chest. It scared him more than ever, knowing that this gift, whatever it was, was going to change him somehow. 

_How could you be such an idiot?_ He sneered to himself, tears falling from his cheek onto the purple cloth of his suit pants, _you should have known better! You're smart enough, you should have figured a gift from Him was not going to be something like a box of chocolates!_

He sniffed, pressing his hands tighter against his chest, letting his tears stream out, until he had exhausted himself completely. Sighing he kept himself curled up in a ball, rubbing his eyes, eventually drifting into unconsciousness.


	15. Grand Opening Continued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that the "intermission" is out of the way time for the opening of Freddy Fazbear's Family Pizzeria!

“Uncle Vinc!” Seb's voice was the first thing he sensed followed by a few shakes, then another voice, Mimi's voice, “Vincent! Wake up!” 

Next thing he knew he was wet, his face and upper torso drenched in water, “Gah!” He gasped, jerking into an upright position, frantically looking around the room. His blue eyes fell onto Mike, holding a now empty pitcher, “What the hell?” 

Mike grinned, pointing a finger to the two kids, “No cursing in front of the tykes Vinny.” Vincent held back a groan, he hated that nickname, his attention moved hearing Seb speak up, “I've heard worse.” This got a fake shocked expression from Mike, “You've said worse to him?” 

“Not directly to him,” Vincent gave mike a small frown, “I would never say such things to a kid, especially Seb! I only said those kind of things once.” Seb subconsciously gripped the side of Vincent's pant leg for comfort, not liking the memories the conversation brought up for the two of them, frowning a bit too, “He said those things to my dad and grandma once.” 

“Yikes,” Mike recoiled a bit, scrunching up his face, “Must be hard to piss off your uncle here, he seems like a pretty chill guy.” Seb leaned against Vincent's leg, smiling a bit, “He's the best.” Mimi, on the other side of Vincent voiced in as well, “He's a lot nicer than my parents...” She frowned a little, rubbing her shoulder as she glanced to the side. 

The security guard smiled, leaning down to Mimi's height, “From the time I've know this guy, he makes a good father figure, and probably a very passionate lover.” 

“What?” Vincent glanced over, his gaze breaking away from his own hand he was once again staring at, “What do you mean by that?” He quarried, a slight eyebrow raise, his head slightly turned away. 

Mike took a moment to take in the confusion, standing up as he grinned, “I mean that you passionately love these two tykes with the way you guys look at each other, in a family way of course.” Vincent blinked, still confused, “Why would it be any other way? That was an odd way to phrase it... I've raised Seb off and on for most of his life and completely for the last three years, and Mimi is not going anywhere any time soon.” 

Mike chuckled, placing a hand on his hip, “Man you are clueless about that.” Ignoring the glare he got from Vincent, the guard continued, “I bet it's going to be fun in the teenage years of those two.” 

When Vinc opened his mouth to retort, his mind reminded him of a more pressing matters, “How long was I out?” He glanced between the three, Mike speaking up, “Ya two kids here got me saying you just fainted. Took maybe ten minutes of shaking you until I just threw the water on ya. It worked didn't it?” 

He held back a grin when Vincent frowned a bit at the mention of the pitcher of water, “Yeah, wish you could have refrained from using the water as a last resort...” He glanced down at his suit, not noticing too much moisture left in the fabric. At least it would be dry or close to being fully dried before the place opened. His hair on the other hand was a different story. Quickly he pulled the tie out of his hair, letting the long purple-black strands free. Shaking his head he let his hair flip back and forth, small droplets of water falling out as he did so. 

“Wow,” Mike cleared his throat awkwardly, “Your hair didn't look that long tied back... and it's so soft looking.” Vincent huffed a little, glancing to the side at Mike as he began to tie his hair back once more, “What, don't think I can have long hair?” The guard snorted, smirking slightly, “Nah, ya do rock the long hair thing. But, why do ya keep it tied back?” 

Finishing up the last loop on the tie, Vincent hummed, “It looks more professional if I have it back, otherwise it gets all over,” he blew a couple bangs out of his face, getting a snort in response from Mike, “I make sure to have some work ethics, and one is to look presentable at least.” The guard snorted again, taking off his hat and placing it on Mimi's head, “I hold that as well.” His black hair now revealed from underneath the hat was all over the place, looking like he just went through a wind tunnel, his tie lose around his neck, “Well,” Vincent chuckled, “At least you do the night shift instead of the day shift.” 

“Oh, don't like the way I dress for work?” Mike's voice was jokingly heavily with sarcasm, replacing the hand on his hip, “Am I not fashionable enough for the day shift?” He laughed, waving his free hand, “I'm just kidding. I'm the night guard and I love it, I don't have to be all fancied up for the people, since I don't deal with any of them.” 

Mimi giggled, lifting the hat slightly off her head so she could see, “You'd be great with kids I bet!” The guard smiled brightly at Mimi, “Thanks kid! I was pretty good with kids back at the old pizzeria when I got stuck on a day shift. Kids loved me, parents and employees hated me,” he paused, glanced over to Seb and whispered, “They were jealous of my amazing skills dealing with children, kind of like your uncle here.” Vincent couldn't help but smile a little: he did see a resemblance to himself in Mike, just those parts were coated in more horrible puns than his own. 

They were interrupted by a loud gleeful voice called from the main room, “Everyone gather!” Crap, Vinc frowned glancing to his wrist watch, “I need to get out there. Need to meet, greet and give the employees a run down.” Vinc ran to the door, glancing back to Mike, “Can ya keep an eye on these two? They shouldn't,” he emphasized the word, staring straight at Sebastian, “be too much trouble. I'll be back in maybe ten or so.” Then he darted out of the room, taking the quicker route through the Fazbear Room and the Fright Room. 

As he bolted through the Fright Room he caught a quick glimpse of those silver-white eyes watching him as he moved through the room. Vinc shivered visibly as the eyes never left him, still feeling them bore into his soul as he went through the adjacent hallway back to the main room. Huffing, Vincent caught his breath, looking for one of his bosses among the sea of employees. 

Jean perked up in front of the crowd when they met eyes, “There you are Vincent!” Tim ran over to him, grabbed his hand and pulled him to the front next to him and Jean, “Alright, now that we are all here let's get this done.” Tim giggled, clasping his hands together against his chest, “I am Tim Jones, and this is Jean Paine, we are your bosses and the owners of Freddy Fazear's Family Pizzeria! You'll be seeing us around, but questions, concerns and complaints from either customers or employees will be directed to the manager, Vincent Valenteno.” 

When all eyes fell on him, the only thing Vinc could do without too much thought was give a small wave, before Jean continued with Tim's words, “Vincent will be around for any problems that arise. The security guards will also be there as the mediators as well as the ones you will go to if there is a more violent issue.” 

Vincent reached behind his back, pressing his fingers against the concealed pistol. He knew to what the boss was referring to: if a customer got violent enough that they had to be escorted out. The pistol he kept concealed on his back, tucked into the back of his pants supported by the belt was one he had gotten from his first job on a college campus, a going away gift from the head of security before he left for home. 

The security guards as well as himself were allowed to carry firearms for protection, and only protection—no showing the kids it or pretty people to impress them. He was still slightly surprised the bosses wanted him to carry a gun, he could understand the security guards, but he couldn't exactly blame them: Jean and Demetri were practically raised in a Fazbear facility, Tim probably spent most of his time with Jean so he was in the same boat, and they knew first hand the dangers that some customers, even employees, could cause. 

His focus was returned to the present as Jean's voice went serious, “Now, no roughhousing on or off breaks, we do not want any harm to come to any customer or employee. Anyone caught roughhousing will be punished accordingly. It will not be tolerated! Anyways,” his voice cheered up, returning to its normal chipper attitude, “That's the basics, we'll leave the rest of the rules to Vincent to relay to you guys! Good luck and we'll see you all back here in about thirty minutes for the opening ceremony!” Jean patted Vincent on the back before the two returned to their office in the back of the "Employees Only" hallway. 

Clearing his throat, Vincent began, “Alright guys,” he had to force himself to ignore his nerves that jumped when all the eyes focused back onto him, “Let's go over the rules for employees to make sure you know them. As the bosses stated, roughhousing will not be tolerated. Next, there will be no cussing or foul language in the main room or any of the attraction rooms. You have some words to say, take it to the employee lounge. Third, be respectful to your coworkers and always be nice to the customers. Got a problem with another employee? Keep it in until after hours. Finally, remember to smile, you are all the faces of Freddy Fazbear's.” 

Vincent took a moment to pause, watching the faces of the employees as he let it sink in, one particular face catching his attention, _that's that kid from down the hall... The one who broke into my house_. He frowned slightly, not sure how either party would feel about seeing each other after the awkward encounter. 

Quickly he moved his gaze away from the male before eye contact could be made, continuing the briefing, “Next, you should know the rules relating to the customers. If you don't know them,” Vincent pointed over his shoulder at a poster next to the stage, “Read over them, memorize them. You can find these posters all over the facility. If a child, or adult, breaks any of these rules you can issue them a warning. After two warnings and they do not cease, call over a security guard,” he nodded towards the group of security guards, which one of them saluted to the eyes that came onto them, “and they can administer the punishment of either a ban from games, or the extreme case of being banned from the place for a set time, depending on the magnitude of their rule breaking. Other than that, make sure the kids are safe and happy. Have any questions feel free to approach me and ask.” 

He let out a heavy sigh as the crowd of employees dispersed, forming little groups among themselves. It felt like he hadn't let out a full breath since he began the speech, and he hated speeches, especially when some people didn't seem to give a damn. 

Though, he had to admit, the security guards were some of the best employees he had ever seen: all five of them attentive, listening to every last word he had said. 

Previously he had met the five of them, not including Mike, when they came in a few days earlier to get their own rundown of the place. Maybe it was something to do with security guards, having their own unique personalities like his own: they were “chill” as some would call it, easy going and kind. 

The oldest of the day guards, Alex, was in his mid fifties, a police officer until he got tired of the bad publicity they had gotten. Apparently, from what Alex had told Vincent, he was an intern around the time the Fazbear Murderer was at large. He despised his superiors for never finding out what happened to the children. And, according to what he was able to gather, there was more than five children missing at the time of the Fazbear Murderer's reign of terror. Vincent's mind reminded him of the words the spirit inside the Springtrap had told him: _“Five children? Is that what the media told you? That it was only five? Well, I'll keep letting you think that.”_

The next oldest security guard was Damian, a man in his thirties, who was just starting out with his career as a security guard. Then there was Coral, Damian's fiance—the two of them apparently met in their training classes, wanted to get a job together, and they thought Freddy Fazbear's was the perfect place. Plus, from the gossip Vincent had unfortunately been given, Coral had just received word she was pregnant. 

There was also Adam, who didn't talk much, reminded Vincent of a student he went to school with, but this guy was in his late twenties. Finally there was Morgan, a short guy, slightly taller than the short stacked Mike, but still short compared to Vincent who towered over most people. 

His attention was caught when somebody approached him, his eyes seeing the black hair tipped with blond first, before focusing on the employee, “Hello,” he tried not to sound too bitter, especially when he saw the boy whom had approached him was the same kid that broke into his house. 

The black haired teen gave him a small grin, stopping a few feet away, “Hey. I saw you recognized me, and decided to come over and have a more, formal introduction without the yelling and scrambling.” 

Vincent chuckled a little, shaking his head, “You know if you just asked for food I would have given it to you. You're little sister is Jessica right?” The teen nodded and Vinc continued, “Sebastian talks about her sometimes, the two of them usually hanging out a bit at lunch. Always find a hungry kid waiting for me to pick him up because he gives away half his lunch to her.” 

“Yeah,” the teen shrugged, glancing to the side, “She talks about him too. My name's Joseph.” Vincent smiled, _finally a name to his face_ , “It's a pleasure Joseph. You already know my name since I am technically your boss.” Joseph grinned, giving Vincent a salute, “Aye boss man. I'll make sure there are no complaints about me from any customer and I'll refrain from cursing in front of the kids.” Vinc chuckled, glancing towards the stage as the three animtronics came out from behind the curtains, “Good, because any cursing will be met with the Profanity Song, and if that happens Demetri will most likely kill you for it.” 

“Oh I love the Profanity Song,” Mike chuckled as he approached the two closely followed by Mimi and Sebastian, who both had security hats on their heads, having troubles seeing underneath them, “Every time Freddy sang it that kid would twitch like crazy, like he was having a seizure or something.” Sebastian bumped into Vincent's leg, and upon realizing whose leg it was, hugged onto it, “Heya uncle Vinc!” Vincent snorted, resting a hand on Seb's dark brown messy hair, “Hey kid. Have fun?” Mimi squeaked, “It was a lot of fun! Mike showed us the security office and even gave us hats!” 

“Did you thank him for the hats?” Vincent questioned, giving a stern look to the two kids. The two shied away from his look, both looking up to Mike, “Thank you Mr. Mike,” they both spoke with a near robotic tone, making both Mike and Vincent laugh. 

The night guard grinned at both children, tipping his own hat, “You're welcome tykes and just call me Mike. Now, I need to head out, got some plans to get done before my date.” 

Vincent rose an eyebrow, Joseph next to him letting out a snort, “You have a date?” It came out sounding rude from the teenager but Mike paid no attention to it, “Yeah, with my pillow man.” 

“Oh,” Joseph nodded slowly, “I see. That sounds like my dates. Date with my guitar, viola, cello, base clarinet, you name it.” Vincent blinked, staring at Joseph astounded, “Wait... You're related to Keith?”


	16. They Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reintroducing the "fun" of Bob Beginzi, and introducing the "wonderful" Victoria Valenteno. This will be good.

Within minutes majority of the tables were filled, orders were being filled and so far there was not a single complaint from the customers. _Today looks like it's going to be a good day_ , Vinc smiled to himself, letting out a hum of satisfaction. 

Vincent occupied himself with walking around the main room, every so often going to check on the cooks, mostly to remember their faces and names. One thing Vincent preferred to do when it came to the people he was working with, was to know their name. No embarrassing mix ups was key to be a successful and productive manager. This was one reason why he was glad to have taken a beginning business management class in college. As Vincent approached the entrance to the Attraction Rooms, he noticed that somebody was watching him. Rolling his eyes he diverted from his original path and over to Bob, “What?” He stopped a few inches away from Bob, arms crossed over his chest, “What's wrong?” 

He tried not to sound snide, he just did not like the man at all. Bob hummed, glancing up to make eye contact, “What do you mean punk?” _Ugh_ , Vincent held back a grimace, _you called me punk? How old are you and are you blind?_ Clearing his throat he answered, still trying not to be snide, “You have been staring at me ever since you came in for work.” 

“Huh,” Bob sneered, “Why would I be unhappy with you?” He pretended to think, _Don't hurt yourself too badly there. You might make that brain used instead of new_ , Vincent caught himself, noticing the violence that was rushing through his mind. 

He barely heard Bob as his thoughts were sinking in, “Perhaps because you took away the manager job from me!” Bob hissed, glaring at him, “That's why I'm not happy with you. I will get that job mark my words.” 

Without taking much notice, Vincent spat, “Well buddy, I have the job and you don't, so take your pride and stick it up you a-” He quickly stopped before he finished the last word, remembering the rule of no cussing, “Fill it in with what you want. But,” he took a step closer to Bob, lowering his voice, “You try any funny business, especially if it involves hurting children, I will personally take away all of your vacation time, or even make it look like you took them all already, and,” he paused, pointing a finger to Bob's face, “the mafia will be the least of your worries.” 

Sneering, and not bothering to listen to the response of the other he turned his back, “There's work to be done, so get it done.” 

A creeping feeling began to rise in his mind, the world seeming to move in slow motion, then a quite voice called in his mind, “Move.” Quickly Vincent complied, moving to the left, Bob's fist flying right by his face, missing it only by a few inches. 

Whipping around he shot a venomous glare at the employee, “Did you seriously just try to punch me?” He gritted his teeth, trying to hold back the rage he was feeling. 

Grabbing the hand of the other, he drug the man into the back hallway, pushing him into the employee lounge. Slamming the door shut he continued to glare daggers into the man, “Did you not listen to a single word I said?” 

Vinc had to stop himself from slamming the man against the wall. Trying to calm his voice he continued, “Employee rule number three: if you have a problem with any employee, keep it to yourself during work.” Bob sneered, rubbing the hand that was forcefully grabbed by the taller man, “This is work related, and like hell I'm going to see you outside of work!” 

_The feeling is far mutual there_ , Vincent mentally hissed, “Either way, keep it to yourself. I have say in what your paycheck is, and also if you are fit to be an employee of the facility or not.” 

“Are you threatening me?” Bob growled, which was responded to with another growl from Vincent, this one much more hostile and serious, “I am. If that's the only way I can get it through your thick skull than so be it.” He took a step back for a moment, letting out a heavy sigh, “Get back to work.” Without too many complaints as well as a snide “freak” from Bob as the man left, leaving Vincent alone in the lounge. 

He collapsed into one of the chairs surrounding the oval table in the center of the room, letting his hands hang limply on either side. Where was this rage coming from? Naturally he was a nice person, somebody who had too much care in his heart, giving it to people who didn't deserve it. He cared for people, but somehow now, he was angry, even if he originally didn't like Bob, he would have never gotten to the point of threatening him, even if he was furious with the man. 

Threatening was something he was used to receiving, not being on the giving side of it. His frown deepened, staring at the hand that was held by the spirit it the dream, or perhaps more specifically a nightmare. _Was it really a dream?_ The frown deepened at that thought. 

“Is this the gift you were giving me?” Vincent mumbled aloud, eyes still glancing at his hand. There were no signs of the purple residue left, but he could still feel the warmth of the glow under his skin. Maybe this was his gift; he was told that it would take time to get used to the changes it would cause, but did he really want this? 

Sighing he gave up on deciphering what the spirit meant by the gift, burying his face in his hands. _What the hell is this going to do to me?_ He mentally cried for an answer, hoping that somehow he would be answered. 

When no answer came, he breathed deeply to calm himself; he had to get back to work, it was his distraction until he got home. Hoisting himself up from the chair he pushed out through the employee lounge door and back into the main room. 

Taking a quick glance around he noticed a face he didn't think would ever be allowed in a family place again. 

A quick breath, and he was over to Joseph who was just going on break, “Joseph, can you take Seb and Mimi, show them... something.” Joseph raised an eyebrow, being shoved by Vincent towards where the two kids stood, “Wait why?” 

Vincent barely gave him a chance to finish before he pushed him up to the two children, “Take them back to the lounge, there's some food in there as well as some cans of soda in the fridge. Just take them back there until I come back.” He paused for a few seconds, glancing down to Seb and Mimi, “You two go with Joseph, he's going to show you the employee lounge and give you snacks.” 

“Oh, snacks!” Seb grinned, but Mimi gave a concerned look to her caretaker, “Is everything okay Vincent? You seem stressed.” 

Vincent quickly shook his head, dismissing the thought, but in the action only proved the young girl correct, “I'm fine. Just go with Joseph.” Frowning the young girl nodded, following the two males back to the employee lounge. 

Letting out a heavy sigh of relief he turned his attention back to the front of the facility, seeing that same face again. Mustering up his courage he approached the person, reminding himself to remain calm. Once to the front he cleared his throat, using his most professional tone, “Hello, welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Fami-” 

“Vincent Miles Valenteno!” The person burst out, her body might have been frail but her words and voice were still strong as titanium and as deadly as a black widow, “What are you doing here?!” She reached up, grabbing him by the ear, yanking him down to her height, getting a grunt of protest from him and a quiet ow, “You had better not be goofing off at this place instead of working! You'd better not be acting like him and hanging around children!” 

Holding back a glare Vincent spoke up, yanking himself to an upright position, “Mother,” he hid the bitterness, “I am at work right now. Did you not get the message I left you? I have a job here as a manager. Besides,” Vincent added a little lower, “Shouldn't you be off on the ethics comity meeting? That was supposed to be this whole week and next week.” 

The elderly woman huffed, brushing off her blouse, “It was cut short due to some hearing that monster is doing things again. He was mentioned to be working here so I came to see what horrible experiments he was doing this time. And you are here! What did I tell you about being around that demon?” 

“He doesn't even technically work here,” Vinc hissed through gritted teeth, “He was only here to improve the animatronics' AI. He'll be gone within days and back to the hospital. He's done none of his experiments here.” 

His mother scoffed, hitting him upside the head, “Don't talk to me that way, if you were small enough I would put you over my knee like your father used to do,” her old eyes trailed across the open room, “Where is he?” Vincent rubbed the back of his head, grumbling, “The 'monster' isn't in today.” He got another _twack_ to the back of his head, his mother raising her voice, “Not the demon! I mean Sebastian. You must have brought him here at least.” 

_What does she mean by at least? But of course she wanted to see him,_ she always wanted to despite Vincent making it clear he didn't want her to. 

Vincent didn't hide his frown this time, “He's with a friend right now;.” He didn't bother lying to his mother about something like this—she could see right through the lies. His eyes noticed the old woman's eyes kept wandering around, “He's not here right now though,” it wasn't a complete lie, “They went out to get some snacks with the friend's older brother. They'll be back later sometime.” 

He paused, watching his mother as she eyed him, processing, and buying what her son was telling her, then he added, “You can wait here if you want.” 

Vinc knew those words would get to his mother: she hated waiting for anything. The woman scoffed again, waving her frail hand, “I don't want to stay that long, I've got some other business to attend to.” He let out a long sigh of relief, until his mother added that one word, “But,” he inhaled sharply, trying to brace himself for the next words that came out of her mouth, “Where is that other child you had with you, the little girl?”


	17. Point of No Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After confronting Victoria, Vincent begins his decent into a place he never thought he would go, and there may be not turning back after this point

“Who,” he swallowed, “Who told you that I had another girl with me?” Vincent's voice was up an octave, every single muscle in his body tensed up. _How did she find out about Mimi?_

His mother would have never approved of him picking up some random girl off the street and bringing her into his home. It did sound reckless when he thought about it from the perspective of somebody who didn't have all the details, the various times he would see that poor girl on the streets, alone, forgotten and so sad. Nobody did seem to understand how children should be treated, and he wanted to show her some compassion, so he did. His mother was one of those who didn't understand his overflowing compassion, and sure as hell wouldn't like the fact that she was a orphaned child from off the streets. 

He was panicking on the inside, and the old woman could see through the calm shell he put on the outside, “Don't play stupid with me. Phillus told me her son saw you on multiple occasions taking Sebastian and some girl wearing an eye patch to get ice cream over at that place on 54th.” Her stern eyes burned into his, the same sick feeling he got as a child washing over him, when his mother was going to give him one of her talks, “She must be here, it would be irresponsible to leave her alone at your home or force Sebastian to have to carry her around with him and his friend. And if she is your child and you never told us about her or her mother there will be consequences!” Victoria, by now, had raised her voice, waving her hand at her son. 

She then calmed down, replacing the hand back down onto her cane, “Though, I wouldn't put it past you, not telling your poor mother and father what you are up to, or that they are grandparents again. You wouldn't even care if your father dropped dead suddenly.” 

“Is father dead?” Vincent held his breath, “He can't be dead, he was fine the last time I talked with Victor!” His mother snapped at him, not hitting him this time, “Stupid boy! Don't interrupt me! Your father is fine. You're always too worried about your parents.” He was glad she was moving on from the topic of Mimi, but there was annoyance rising up in him: she always contradicted her speech. 

“A child at nineteen shouldn't be so worried about their parents and having children that are six years old. At ninteen you should be-” She was cut off by Vincent, “I'm twenty almost twenty-one, mother!” He tried not to sound spiteful, but it still slipped out. Victoria huffed, giving him a shocked look, “Excuse me?” 

“I'm turning twenty-one at the end of next month!” He felt the anger rising again, foreign but natural, “I'm your own son for heaven's sake! You gave birth to me, you raised me for eighteen years of my life! You should at least know how old I am.” He raised a hand before his mother could snap back at him, a small voice in his mind urging him to hit her. It took some strength but he ignored the voice, “Mother,” his voice was creepily calm, “I am at work right now. If you want to talk it will have to wait until I get off of work. I get off shift at nine,” he hid a small smirk when Victoria huffed in distraught—nine was way too late for her. 

“So, we'll talk again sometime,” he gently nudged his mother to the door, “I'll make sure to call you when I get the chance. Until then: have a nice day.” Leaving the shocked woman at the front, he turned his back to her, heading to the farthest room away from her, just like he did as a kid. 

Unfortunately, the room had to be the Fright Room. As he trekked there he took little notice of his mother's protesting yells towards a security guard, mot likely Coral, tired to help her out. 

That was a reason why he was thankful for knowing the day guards well enough. Coral herself came from an abusive family, so she knew when somebody wanted to be left alone, especially when it came to those who are the abusive family members. 

On his way to the Fright Room, Alex gave him a quick pat on the back plus a sympathetic look. Vinc responded with a small corner of the mouth smile, then retreated into the hallway between the two rooms, quickly passing into the Fright Room. 

Once inside, he found a place and collapsed into a ball on the floor, only a few feet away from the door he previously passed though, positioned underneath a table. He decided he wasn't going to move from there, giving himself some time for his mind to ease into a calmer state: to remove the low feeling as well as the panic and unfamiliar anger. 

He knew though, that eventually he would have to get up, he had to get back to work, he had to relieve Jospeh from Mimi and Seb, then go home, and eventually he had to face his mother. 

“Poor child,” the low sympathetic cooing voice flowed into his mind, but he didn't jump, or even look up. In response to this reaction, or moreover absence of reaction, the voice went silent with a hum. Few moments passed before Vincent felt two hands grab onto his cheeks, gently lifting his head up, “Dear, dear child,” his eyes met with the empty whites of the spirit, the ethereal form glittering purple, “You seem so low, after such a high.” He didn't challenge the gaze of the spirit, just let his eyes fall back down, staring through the purple spirit onto the ground. 

He was used to this by now, the empty feeling he would get after being mocked and belittled by his mother—it was a mechanism he used to cope with it. This, however, wasn't something the spirit knew. 

“Vincent,” the voice was less smooth as he spoke again, “Don't retreat back into yourself, dear Vincent. That will make my gift all for not. You mustn't fall back into old habits, otherwise you won't proceed forward.” He felt one of the fingers gently pressed against his cheek slowly rub his skin in a soothing manner, “Is this how you cope with the world's hate? Shutting yourself down and bottling it up inside?” The spirit let out a pitying sigh, “You shouldn't do that, it's not healthy for you, eventually you will explode, and for the safety of those around you, you don't want that to happen.” 

Finally Vincent reacted, glaring up to the spirit, “Stop it,” His voice was low and stern, “Stop playing this game of acting like you care about what happens to me. Just leave me alone. You gift was nothing helpful. What is it, just to give me anger, to make my life even more miserable?” His gaze fell once again, a deep frown forming onto his face, “I don't want anything else.” The purple hands let go of his cheeks, the white eyes watching him thoughtfully. 

Smiling, he hummed, “Listen Vincent,” at first the blue eyes didn't look up. The spirit waited, the blue eyes finally haphazardly glancing up, waiting until their eyes met, “I understand how you feel. The world is a cruel place, uncaring to those who don't conform to the standard way of living, whose who are too strong or too weak are singled out.” 

“So now you are calling me weak?” Vincent half assedly hissed under his breath, “That's really charming, you should use it at parties, you'll totally make friends...” He sneered lightly, still keeping gaze with the spirit, “Just leave me alone.” Sighing heavily, the spirit shrugged, lifting further off the ground, “Very well then, I won't tell you what that idiot is planning to do with your precious kids.” The ethereal being turned his back to Vinc, “It would be a shame if he went through with what he had planned for the two kids.” 

Vincent's attention shot up at the words, “What?” His voice rose, his focus full on the spirit, “What do you mean?” The being smirked, _that got his attention_ , giving himself a silent victory, he turned around, hiding the smirk with a blank expression, “People enjoy coming into this room to get some alone time like you and that boy who loves music, time to talk to themselves, that idiot Bob included as well.” Vincent slightly unveiled himself from his ball, leaning in, “What... What did he say?” The spirit glanced to his nails, “Oh, he was quite sour with you, stomping in here, mumbling about how you would pay for something. I really didn't care about the details, but then I heard the names of those precious children you look after.” 

“Of course you heard that part: anything to do with a child perks your interest," Vincent mumbled under his breath. The spirit sneered at him, “Enough of your sass less you wish not to hear what I know.” Biting his tongue, Vincent remained silent. Smiling again he continued, “That's better. As I was saying, the fool mentioned your children, plotting ways to use them to force you out of your job. He came up with other ways,” the spirit let out a low chuckle, tittering, “Even thought about letting me free in the facility during the day! Oh, what excitement that would be! All the children ripe for the picking, trapped in a room just for me...” He paused noticing that Vincent was starting to lose focus, “But he dismissed the idea for the time being. He seemed quite keen on doing something to your children though. Don't know the details, he seems to like the idea using the children though, but perhaps you should...” He waved a purple hand, searching for the right word, “Talk to him, get the idea out of his mind.” 

Vincent frowned, shaking his head, “I couldn't.” The spirit returned close to his face, cupping his cheeks in his purple hands, “You must, Vincent. If you hesitate too long you won't be able to stop him, and that would be unfortunate. Who knows what he wants to do to those poor children, especially since he has ties with the mafia.” 

Vincent's mind began to tingle, feeling a warm sensation wash over his senses. It felt wonderful, something he had never felt before, and he wanted it to stay, “Wha...” He blinked a couple times, trying to focus his mind, “What should I do?” It was going against all his rationality to trust the spirit, but his mind was too blurred to tell him otherwise. The spirit grinned, leaning in closer, his nose brushing against the side of Vinc's face as he whispered in his ear, something so soft he strained to hear. 

“I...” Vincent stammered, “I couldn't do that! I don't want to do that.” He felt sick just thinking about what the spirit suggested, “I'll never do that.” The spirit hummed, tightening his grip on Vinc's cheeks, “You don't have to child. Just talk to him, try to convince him otherwise, but if he doesn't listen, you must do it...” He lowered his voice again, “For Sebastian and Mimi.” Frowning Vincent breathed slowly, lowering his gaze to the ground, feeling the wonderful sensation returning, “For Sebastian and Mimi...” 

He shut his eyes tightly closed, steadying his breathing. His nerves were numb from the amazing sensation from before, his mind beginning to crave the feeling. Slowly he stood up, the hands of the spirit still glued to his cheeks. Fully on his feet the spirit let go of him, floating above his shoulders, “Put the fool on clean up duty for tonight. Keep him afterwards to talk with him. If things go bad... Just do it.” Frowning Vincent nodded slowly, stepping towards the doorway, not taking notice that the spirit followed him closely behind, almost feeling comforted by the presence. If he could have seen himself in a mirror, he would have seen the purple haze sweeping over his eyes.


	18. Eliminate the Threat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The little horror story has begun, and this is just the beginning. The first victim falls...

He had gotten some lovely colorful words from the employee, but Bob didn't ignore his request to stay afterwards to help clean up, and to stay after to have “a talk.” He was agitated, to say the least, having to deal with Bob more, but if the man was really threatening Sebastian and Mimi's safety, he had to do something. His head ached slightly, whining about the lack of the pleasurable sensation from before, but he could at least focus on what had to be done. 

Joseph thankfully brought Seb and Mimi home, and as a thank you he gave the teen enough money to take the four of them, including Joseph's little sister, to dinner and a bit extra for babysitting the kids. 

Spending the shifts Joseph had off with him was a nice relief from the stressed jammed in his brain, between dealing with his mother, Springtrap and Bob. The kid had a lot of energy, and like himself Joseph had sass to him. In their times off talking mostly in the Fright Room, since Joseph wanted to be inspired, they initially bonded over their mutual hate for Keith, something Vincent wasn't used to. 

Sighing Vincent pushed a few of the wooden chairs in at their tables. It was 10:00PM, which meant that the rest of the cleaning crew could be finishing up and heading home, as well as the security guards would be leaving, only himself and Bob remaining for two hours. It was plenty of time to talk to him and get home, hopefully to two sound asleep kids, and before Mike got in for his shift. 

If he was too late, he'd probably get stuck for a few extra hours talking with the night guard. He didn't mind talking with the guy, it was just tonight was not the night for puns, joking around and perhaps even being dragged into watching a movie with him. 

Glancing over, he was met with the smiling face of Coral, “You going to be good here tonight or do I need to have Adam stay and hit Bob around a bit?” She smile brightly, patting Vincent on the shoulder as she stood next to him. He smiled in return, “I'll be fine. If Bob tries anything funny I'm pretty sure Mike will find a way to be here in the nick of time to stop it.” Coral rolled her eyes, letting out a snort,”Of course he would. I think he might have a thing for you. Take it easy alright?” She patted his shoulder once again before joining Damian at the front doors. 

Coral turned back to him, pointing directly to him, “And no crazy parties with Mike when you get done talking with the jerk.” She used two fingers to point to her own eyes and then back to him. Rolling his eyes, Vincent gave her and Damian a wave getting a quick wave from the two back as they left the facility. Only two people remained in. 

Turning over his shoulder, Vincent studied the surroundings for Bob, “Where did you run off to?” When not getting a sight of the man, he let out a heavy sigh, _he had better not have ran away when I wasn't looking_. Frowning Vincent made his way back to the employee lounge. 

Inside he didn't find the man, but rather the back door open giving him an idea where the male was, “Mr. Beginzi,” he called to the back, hearing a groan come from outside, _yup, he's out there_. When the man didn't return inside, he grumbled to himself, going outside himself. 

He was met with the reeking stench of cigarette smoke, “Bob!” His voice was much more stern this time, and a bit louder than he intended, the man jumping in surprise, “Woah,” Bob glared at Vincent, dropping the used cigarette onto the floor, “What is it?” 

“Did you completely forget that I wanted to speak with you once the clean up was done?” Vinc crossed his arms over his chest, his voice heavy with unamusement, “You want to go home and so do I, so I'll make this quick.” Bob sneered, stamping out the cigarette on the ground, “What is this about anyways?” 

Vincent forced himself not to roll his eyes, or to snap at the other man, “It's about something that another employee overhead you talking about. Since it involves the safety of children it must be brought to attention and resolved.” 

“Who ratted me out? Who was spying on me?” Bob growled, reaching into his pocket, “I'll fucking cut them when I find out who, the slimy little rats. I bet it was the Muse of Bonnie, that stupid teen who's always singing his orders!” 

Vincent was only familiar to whom the other was referring to because Joseph was commonly called by the children as “the Muse of Bonnie,” due to his musical talents. 

Though, with the threatening words and actions of the other, he felt a heightened sense of danger, tensing up his muscles, but kept his voice smooth, “That doesn't matter, Mr. Beginzi. What matters is that I need to know if what they have said is true or not, and if it is true, if you plan to go through with it.” The older male glared at him, keeping his hand in his pocket, “Why the hell would I tell you? I'm not going to tell you about what I have planned to do with those brats of yours!” 

That was all he needed. The blue eyes narrowed dangerously, taking a challenging step forward, “Leave them out of this, they are young children. They are completely innocent in this. Your quarrel is with me.” The older man snorted, taking a step forward himself, “Nobody is innocent. But if you don't want them involved, give up the job!” 

Growling, Vincent felt that rush of anger from before, “Get over yourself! You're not all high and mighty here. You have a problem with the decision to make me manager, bring it up with the bosses! It was their decision not mine. You bring the kids into this, and there will be big problems. You can't get over yourself can you?” He began to bring out the anger into his words, the bitter resentment towards the man flowing out, “You need to get your head out of your ass, get yourself on the ground and get over yourself. You're nothing special. You're just a pitiful old man who has nothing else to live for but to make others suffer, and you're not even good at it! Get a life.” The last words he let out slowly, emphasizing each word carefully. 

“You little!” Bob snarled, pulling his hand out of his pocket, revealing a small pocket knife, “I'll make you regret those words!” Vincent's mind began to rush, his thoughts becoming scrambled with panic. The world around him seemed to go in slow motion, the knife coming towards his torso. 

Through all the panic in his mind, a voice slipped through, “Make him pay.” With little hesitation Vincent grabbed Bob's hand, twisting it sharply to the side. The older male let out a screech of pain and surprise, but still held onto the knife. The voice continued in his mind, “Get him. Make him regret that decision...” The voice was pleasurable, his mind feeling a little numb each word it spoke to him. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Bob's voice however was a sickly venom in his mind, causing him to scowl. His eyes focused on the brown ones of the other, “You came at me with a knife!” He hissed, twisting the wrist even more, hearing small crackles as his did so, “You're the one with the problem.” 

The cracking didn't stop him: he continued to twist the wrist in his grip, even after the knife fell and the man screamed out pleas for him to stop. Finally, when he heard the loud snap of bone did he let go. Bob fell onto his knees, crying out in pain, “What the fuck you freak? First your fucking eyes change, then you break my fucking wrist!” Quickly as he could, Bob picked up his knife again in his good hand and swing it, the edge catching Vincent's shoulder. Vinc winced, but didn't scream out in pain—the pain almost felt good, feeling the blood trickle out of the new wound. 

His mind was becoming much more numb by now, his body feeling like an out of control machine, moving on its own, but he took little notice to it through the rush of blood through his veins. Sneering he focused on Bob, the voice cooing in his mind, “Don't let him get the best of you. It's self defense now...” 

Hissing under his breath Vincent lunged forward before Bob had another chance to swing the knife, grabbing the good hand with wicked speed, this time not twisting the wrist, but rather the whole arm. 

Before the knife had a chance to fall out of the hand, Vincent swiped it up. He gazed at the knife for a few heartbeats, debating on whether or not he wanted to use it against the fool. Eventually he turned away from the idea, tossing the knife off to the side, _too messy_. 

He felt a slight grin slip onto his face, staring into the fearful eyes of Bob it was almost wonderful, having the life of another in his hands, to do what he wanted with it. It brought a twisted smile to his face. 

Bob, who was previously trying to struggle away, froze at the smile, eyes wide with fear, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Vinc let out a low chuckle, moving his grip from the arm to around Bob's throat, “You should have thought before you tried to do harm. Nothing is as it seems, and this will be the last mistake you make.” 

He grinned madly, beginning to apply pressure to his grip, Bob struggling and gagging under his hold. It didn't take long before the man began to struggle even more, attempting to kick his attacker, “Let...” Bob coughing, “Let go of me!” Vincent hushed him with a _shhh_ leaning into his grip, “You're wasting your last precious breaths.” He smirked, feeling the bone beneath the flesh, the muscles tensing in fear and the waning strength, slowly leaving them. It was amazing, feeling the weakness wash over the flesh beneath his fingers, eventually the end of the struggling came. 

Glancing down to the man in his grip, he saw the last bit of light leave his brown eyes, one last ragged breath taken before Bob was still. He exhaled heavily, his own breath sightly heavy, puffs of air rising into the air as he began to process what he had done. 

He raised his hands up to his face, examining each finger, small splatters of blood speckled on his tan skin. He felt that rush again, the rush of euphoria. He had to get rid of the body. 

Casually glancing around his eyes fell onto the large dumpster against the back wall of the building. It was perfect, the trash company was due in the morning, and there was plenty of trash to hide the body of the man who was trash himself underneath. Steadying his breath he grabbed onto Bob's leg, dragging him over to the dumpster. 

It took a few tries to hoist the corpse in, but finally he did, pushing down the swelled and broken wrist between a few black garbage pages. It was exhilarating, hiding the evidence of his crime, the rush of adrenaline as he buried the corpse of a man he deeply despised in the garbage. He exhaled slowly, closing the lid to the dumpster, concealing the body within. It was done.


	19. Consultations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath is always the worst, when one realizes what they have done and the guilt settles in. At least, this time there is somebody for support

It didn't sink in what he had done until he was in front of his car. His shoulder ached, the blood staining his suit and his mind losing the cloud shrouding it. Vincent stared at his hands, in disbelief, his legs shaking from the shock of the realization, “Wha.... What did I just do?” He braced himself against the door of his car, his body starting to shake all over. Vincent continued to stare at his hands, feeling his heart beating against his chest, his shoulder throbbing from the cut. 

“What happened..?” He felt his eyes start to water, fear and despair mixing in his emotions. He felt a presence behind him, then a hand on his wounded shoulder, “Vincent?” 

In response he screeched out in surprise and pain, jerking around. Mike stood next to him, looking at his hand, “Dude, you're bleeding. Are you alright?” 

Vinc cringed back, worried about what he would do, he didn't know what caused such an outburst, or what caused his mind to go into such a rage, but he didn't want to hurt Mike. 

The guard noticed the actions of the other, lowering his hand, “Are you alright?” He tilted his head, an eyebrow raising, “You look like you saw something fucking terrifying,” Mike crossed his arms over his chest, huffing, “I can't let you drive home like this man. You look like you might collapse at any second.” 

Much to his dismay, Mike was right. Vincent frowned, lowering the keys he was holding in his hands, feeling the tears stream down his cheeks. He was breaking down, he couldn't take it, he was scared, terrified of what he did. He didn't want to stay in case there was another outburst, if he would give in to the unknown force that caused his actions. 

“I need to get home to Seb and Mimi...” Vince sniffed, trying to stop the tears from flowing down his face, “I'm fine, really.” He added in the last part, trying to convince himself and Mike that it was true, but neither himself or Mike bought it. 

The guard snorted, swiping the keys from him before he had the chance to struggle even more with the lock, “You didn't even believe the words coming out of your mouth, ya think I will?” He shook his head, putting an arm around Vinc's good shoulder, “Come on, you're coming back inside even if I have to drag you in,” there was heavy concern in the guard's voice, his blue eyes half closed, worry clouding them. 

Reluctantly, Vincent let Mike drag him back inside, almost literally: Mike held Vincent up by the belt of his pants as he helped him back indoors. Mike's blue eyes kept wandering over the the wound on Vinc's shoulder, _What happened to him?_ Mike frowned as he opened the doors to the facility, _I've never seen him this broken down, or even broken down at all. He looks like complete shit_. The two didn't stop in the main room, Mike dragging the manager to the security office. 

He helped Vince onto the black leather couch in the back of the office, examining him up and down, “You got anymore wounds hiding around?” He waited until the other shook his head no, then attempted a smile, “Alright, I'll go get the first aid kit and a couple drinks, then you will tell me what happened as I patch you up.” He didn't wait to hear the objections from the manager; he turned around, going to the door, taking a quick glance to Vinc, _no way you are going to avoid telling me what happened. Gotta be something extreme if it made ya this way. You're usually so chipper and cheerful_. The guard shook his head in dismay as he went across the hall to the employee lounge. 

When he entered the room he was met with a chilled breeze from the outside, “Huh, some moron left the door open.” Rolling his eyes with an annoyed huff, Mike sauntered over to the door to shut it, not before noticing something on the floor outside, as well as the lingering smell of iron and smoke. 

Taking a step out, the object glittered reflections of the street light off it's surface, making it even more noticeable. He decided to investigate it, leaning down to get a closer look at what caught his attention: on the floor was a small pocket knife, red blood splotched on its metallic surface, “Shit...” He mumbled, having a good idea whose blood it was on that knife, “Why would somebody attack that precious cinnamon bun?” Anger and worry bubbled inside his blood, leaving the knife where it was; he didn't want to mess with the evidence if Vincent really was attacked, and the police needed to get involved. 

Mike sighed, returning back inside. He focused back on his previous objective, going to the cabinets in the back of the room, pulling out the first aid kit, then went to the fridge to get the drinks, “Hmmm...” He pulled out two beers, some that he stashed away in the back of the fridge, “He's probably old enough, and this will help numb the pain.” He shrugged—if Vinc wasn't old enough, he was probably damn close enough and it didn't have to leave the facility—but Vincent would be definitely be staying the night. 

It wasn't exactly his idea of what he had wanted when Vincent would take the night shift with him, but he wasn't going to force the guy to do anything strenuous tonight—he might not even be ale to focus on a movie, or even stay awake. Besides, if Vincent was attacked, Mike was going to have to call the police, it was his job as the night guard of Freddy Fazbear's Family Pizzeria, and as a friend. 

Sighing, he exited the lounge, intending to return to the security room, though he thought he saw something large and, quite ugly colored standing in the main room near the entrance to the fright room, Impossible, Mike shrugged it off, _bastard's locked inside that case. I'm the only one with a key to it that's in the facility right now_. He reentered the office, seeing that Vincent was still in the same position on the couch, holding his wounded arm tightly, his eyes gazing to the floor. 

“I'm back,” Mike spoke up, Vincent jumping at his voice, “Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya.” He sat down next to Vinc on the couch, the same side as to where the cut was. Mike took a moment to examine the wound before speaking again, “You're going to need to take off the jacket and shirt, I want to make sure to wrap this up well so it doesn't get infected.” The only response he got from the other was a quiet hum, Vinc's eyes not rising up from their gaze on the floor. _Jeez_ , Mike frowned internally, _what the hell happened?_ It was a constant question burning in his mind, but right now it didn't seem like he would get an answer to it from the other. 

Shaking his head, Mike began to work on taking off the jacket, undoing each button on the jacket, then slowly slipping it off, “This may hurt a bit,” Mike informed him before he pulled the jacket over the injured shoulder. Vincent let out a hushed groan of pain as the fabric rubbed against his wound, finally looking up. 

Mike chuckled, placing the purple jacket on the floor next to the couch, “Now you finally respond. Has Vincent dot exe finally started responding again?” Vincent hesitated, eyes finally meeting Mike's, “I...” he glanced away again, “I don't know...” 

“Come on man,” Mike frown deepened, working on unbuttoning the shirt, “What happened to ya? I saw the knife outside,” He was taken aback by the visible cringe Vincent made at the mention of the knife, “Did some jerk ass attack you?” Vincent remained silent for a moment, finally speaking in a full sentence for the first time since Mike had found him, “I was going to talk to Bob... and he,” Vinc paused, closing his eyes tightly shut, “He attacked me.” 

_Damn_ , Mike sneered, _always knew that guy was an asshole_. He gently took off the now unbuttoned shirt, placing it down next to the jacket. The wound wasn't too bad, but what more caught his attention was all the scars on his body. 

There were a few here and there, mostly on his arms and shoulders, something Mike didn't like the implications of their position gave. As he opened the first aid kit, he decided to try to get more information out of the other, “What happened between you and Bob?” 

“He...” Vincent frowned, turning his gaze away from the guard, focusing on his discarded jacket and shirt, “He came at me with the knife when I tried to reason with him.” Mike couldn't help but sneer again, “Wow what a piece of shit. Where is he? I'll punch him in the gut and a few other places!” 

Mike glared to the doorway, not noticing the look Vincent gave at the mention of Bob's name, “He's not here anymore.” Vincent spoke up quickly, causing the man to focus back on him, “Ya mean not here at the Pizzeria anymore or... not alive, here anymore?” When Vincent cringed even more, recoiling back his whole body, the guard knew which one it was. 

“Shit dude,” Mike stared at him in disbelief, “You killed the guy?” Vincent jerked, his words becoming a jumbled mess, “I... I took the knife from him and defended myself... He-he ran off after I cut his chest.” Something seemed off about what he was saying, but right now Mike was more concerned about calming the poor guy down, “Alright,” he nodded, pulling out an antiseptic wipe from the kit, as well as some sterile gauze and medical tape, “Well hopefully he drops dead in the forest and the animals eat his corpse.” Mike's voice was heavy with distaste, taking the antiseptic wipe in his hand leaving the others on top of the kit, “This is probably gonna hurt a lot more than what it was before,” He warned before he placed the wipe on the wound, starting to gently rub it over. 

Vincent winced, letting out a grunt of pain, but didn't scream out. Once Mike was done with cleaning the wound, he made sure it wasn't still bleeding. When only little bits of blood spilled out of the wound he took up the sterile gauze, placing it softly on top of the wound. With two semi-large strips of medical tape he secured the gauze on the shoulder, “There, should be good enough.” Mike then picked up the two beers, popping off the lids with his bare hands, offering one of them to Vinc. 

“I can't,” Vincent frowned, rubbing below the wounded shoulder, “I'm not yet twenty-one.” Mike chuckled, still holding it out, “Oh come on, live for once. What will happen in the Security Office stays in the Security Office. Haven't you ever wanted to try it yourself?” 

When the other didn't respond immediately, Mike burst out laughing, “Oh you've already tried it, your rebel!” He stopped himself from punching the other in shoulder, for obvious reasons, “Well, this one is on me okay? You're pretty close to twenty-one, right?” He waited for a nod in response from Vinc, “So it's technically not illegal. Besides, just remove all the evidence of the crime and is it really illegal? I like to say everything is legal until you get caught.” 

Vincent twitched a little, unnerved by the phrase, but took the beer from Mike. Smiling, Mike got up, placing the first aid kit next to the tablet. He took a quick glance at it, remembering what he saw in the hallway. Without much thought he picked up the tablet, flicking through the cameras. By now it was second nature to him to look through the cameras, there was still a part of him that was cautious, looking for those black eyes that wanted to stuff him in a suit. But at this place there was no such thing. 

He flicked on the Fright Room camera, seeing that the animatronic was still in the case, but the silver-white eyes were gazing at the camera, “Creepy fuck...” Mike mumbled under his breath before switching to the Toy Room. 

He thought his eyes deceived him, because he could have sworn he saw that creepy puppet Jeremy had told him, the one that was back at the old place. It couldn't have been there, Jean and Tim weren't able to find the thing, similar to the Toys, but with the Toys the two were able to get models. There was nothing relating to that marionette. 

Shrugging, Mike did one last round of checking the cameras, thinking he saw the puppet in front of the Springtrap in the Fright Room. When he blinked, the Springtrap was alone, back to staring at the camera. He let out a sigh before shutting off the tablet screen, “Nothing exciting.” He chuckled to ease his nerves, flopping down onto the couch next to Vincent, “But that's nothing new.” 

Vincent smiled a little, taking a small sip of the beer he was given, but said nothing. It was still strange to Mike, the other not speaking up much: usually Vinc had a lot to say, even if it was rolling his eyes at his puns, or telling him to go home because it was nearly noon and Mike needed to get some kind of sleep. Now, he was silent, almost distant, as if something was really bothering him. 

“Are you worried about that bastard?” Mike finally spoke up after the two quietly sipped their drinks. He hated the silence, “Ya shouldn't be. Guy attacked you and ya defended yourself. If he dies he fucking deserves it.” Mike sipped his beer, leaning back in the couch. 

Vincent let out a heavy sigh, expressing a look that said he was having an internal debate with himself, “I...” he hesitated, “I've never injured somebody before, especially like this. I could never hurt somebody... but...” His words trailed off, his gaze turning away. The guard huffed, setting the beer between two of the cushions of the couch, leaning over to Vincent, “Dude, come on.” he waited for Vincent to look at him, before gently turning his face towards him, “Ya would have done it eventually, don't feel too bad. Most of the time, they deserve it.” 

A large grin spread on his face as Vincent let out a huge yawn, “Hey, get some rest, okay? I'm going to call the police and have them start looking into this.” Vincent frowned, clutching the nearly empty beer bottle in his hands, “I don't want them involved. It's unwanted attention... She'd find out and I'd have to find a whole damn new place to work at.” The guard gave him a puzzled look, “My mother,” was all he responded with. Mike hummed, glancing to the phone next to the tablet on the desk, “Well at least she cares about you.” 

The statement was responded to at first with a disgruntled snort, “If only,” the other scoffed, taking a large gulp of the beer, “She would be nagging me to hell if she found out not only that I was attacked, but ridicule me if I defended myself or not, and for going to the police instead of settling it myself. If I didn't go to the police and she found out, she would yell at me for not going to the police. I can never please her.” Mike felt bad for Vincent, having a mother whom didn't seem to care at all about her own child. 

He decided to share a bit of his own back story with Vinc, since the other had shared some of his. Mike placed his now empty beer bottle on the floor, facing Vincent as he crossed his legs on the couch, “My mother was the only thing I had for a family. My deadbeat dad left her when they found out I was conceived, apparently I was an accident, and he didn't want the commitment of a child. Left her unmarried and with me and my lagging physical abilities. Later, my bastard father did come back,” he pulled up the sleeve to his shirt over his shoulder, revealing multiple scars, “Actually came back demanding to see me because he wanted to make money off of me or something. Damn bastard was the reason I had late physical development. Ended up in a fight with the guy after he threatened my mother, the drunk bastard. Three stitches in this shoulder and a back surgery later I was finally rid of him.” 

Vincent glanced over to him, “Did he die?” Mike snorted, waving a hand, “Nah, he rotted in jail after that until another inmate beat him to death one night. Apparently he picked a fight with the wrong guy, again.” 

Mike chuckled, continuing on not noticing that Vincent's eyelids were starting to droop, “My mother, bless her, worked multiple jobs to help support me and get me through school. She was actually the one who suggested I get the job at Freddy Fazbear's back in the day, and the one who got me into traveling. I was always a bit of a thrill seeker, just like my parents when they were younger, one of the reasons I was conceived—they got a bit too trilled one night—but I didn't start traveling the world until she showed me it. First time she took me out of the country was when-” 

He cut short when he felt Vincent's head fall onto his shoulder, the man breathing softly as he soundly slept, “Heh,” Mike itched his nose with his free hand, “Guess Ma was right: my stories do put people to sleep.” Carefully he took the empty bottle from the other, placed it on the ground, then tried to resposition the sleeping man so he was laying down, but to no avail—Vinc was not willing to move. When Mike moved away, Vinc would tense up, so he gave up on moving too far, positioning himself so the two were half laying on the couch. 

Mike liked having Vincent around, like a younger brother he never had. Blinking a couple times, he fought away the poking sleep: at least he didn't have to watch out for killer animatronics anymore. He did have to curse at himself though, “If only I was a few years younger.”


	20. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nobody misses the jerk, but even so, it still drives a deep burning hole into Vincent. Strangely, he goes to the last 'person' he thought he would for information...

Nobody seemed to miss Bob. It had been three days since the incident, and not a single police officer came in the facility for information. According to Bob's employee records he had no immediate family left, and his ex-fiancee was a member of the mafia who was on semi good terms with him, but didn't seem to care about him. Not a single employee asked about him either. Jean and Tim had wondered aloud to each other, hypothesizing where the man might have gone, but even now they seemed to have given up too. 

It made Vincent sick to his stomach. Nobody cared. He got away with the death of Bob, and nobody would even care. The man might have been a complete  asshole, but nobody deserved to be completely forgotten. 

Luckily, since the events of that night his mind was free of nightmares and hearing that low dark voice in his mind. Unluckily, he couldn't ask anyone what happened the night of Bob's death: the only ones that could have possibly known were either dead, out of it at the time, or not talking to him. The fact Springtrap wasn't speaking to him calmed and unnerved him at the same time. 

On the hours before customers came in, Vincent decided to take a visit to the Fright Room, perhaps getting a response from Springtrap, getting a bit of information about the previous night. 

He cursed himself: he was actually wanting to talk to the thing he wished before would stop talk to him. Pushing the door open to the hallway, Vinc exhaled slowly—he didn't want to do this, but something inside him told him that Springtrap would know what happened that night. His footsteps echoed through the small hallway as he traveled to the other side. Before he had a chance to open the next door, it was opened as Demetri emerged from the other side, holding a few wires in his hands. 

“Hello Murderer,” Demetri glanced up from the wires in his hands, “Off to see the other Murderer?” 

Vincent tensed up at the words of the Golden Eyed man, “W-what do you mean? I'm not a murderer.” He had to stop his voice from shaking as he paused in his stride, focusing on Demetri who was now in front of him. 

The other blinked, examining Vincent, “You're nervous. Your voice is shaking, you're holding yourself differently, as if you are hiding something. Right now you are holding your hands somewhat closed, as if you were chocking somebody, a memory in your muscles. You also responded just like a murderer would to being called a murderer without proof: quick and insulted.” Once again Vincent tensed up: that guy was creepy as hell intelligent. 

“I don't care about informing the police about your nighttime hobby, just make sure not to make a mess or get me involved,” Demetri focused back on the space in front of him, twisting the wires in his fingers, “Although I would love to use the parts, I have enough bad publicity.” With that he left without another word or gesture, leaving Vincent alone in the hallway. 

Frowning deeply, Vinc entered the fright room, leaning his back against the case holding Springtrap within it, “Is it that obvious...?” Lifting up his hands to eye level, he felt a memory come to the forefront: feeling the pulsing flesh under his fingers as he chocked the life out of Bob. So, that's what happened: he strangled the man to death. He frown deepened, clutching his hands into fists, “Why can't I remember all of it?” 

“Because,” the familiar voice rose, “You don't want to remember it. You want to forget it even though you did what you had to. Or,” a low laugh echoed in his mind, “Perhaps you want to forget it because you enjoyed it. You enjoyed having the life of another in your hands, to decide their fate. For once in your life, you have power over others.” Vincent jumped out of his skin when he felt the heavy weight of the animatronic slam against the case, causing him to move a few inches away from the case. 

Whipping around, he shot a glare at the animatronic, “I didn't enjoy killing him! I defended myself, I didn't want to kill him! I never wanted to take the advice you gave me earlier!” Vincent's body shook all over, feeling the adrenaline flow through his body, the fear rising as he stared directly into those cold silver-white eyes. 

The voice snickered, Springtrap's eyes narrowing slightly, “Did you? I have to wonder since you had so much ecstasy as you suffocated the life out of that fool.” 

The memory of the pleasurable tingle rising throughout his mind came back, bringing along with it the horrible realization, “That...” Vincent gulped, raising a hand, pressing it against the case, “That's the gift you gave me, isn't it?” 

Amusement reflected in the animatronic eyes, “Now you understand,” Springtrap leaned back, returning to the original standing position he was previous in, “Yes, that is my gift. The first time you came into the little attraction, you were so feeble, so weak—you wouldn't even dare snap back at that old bat. I decided you needed a bit of help. Now look at you,” Springtrap hummed, “You told that old woman off, you protected your children, and you enjoyed every bit of it!” The low laugh reverberated through the deepest chasms of his mind. 

Vincent's eyes widened, staring up at the animatronic abomination—it was right. That pleasure, his enjoyment for what he was doing, was something he had not dared to do before. He felt weak at the knees, averting his gaze, “Why?” Then, his mind recalled a distant memory, a question unanswered from long ago, taking precedence over his previous one, “How did you know my mother?” 

There was silence, most likely Springtrap was caught off guard by the question. Soon after the silence, it was broken by the voice, “You asked that question so long ago... The first time we met.” The Springtrap let out a low groan, this one not in his mind, “I knew your mother from when she was a young spoiled little brat. I would have enjoyed killing her, but something stopped me from doing it... Perhaps because she would have been hard to lure, and she wasn't much younger than myself. She always brought that little bastard child of her's to Freddy Fazbear's, warning the little child to stay away from the man in purple. 'He's a horrible person and will do terrible things to you,' she would always say, but he always came to me, not knowing that I was the man Victoria warned her about.” 

Vincent had to stop a laugh from slipping out: he knew Springtrap was talking about his brother, Victor, an obnoxious child and an obnoxious adult. But, this story didn't tell him anything in means to answering his question, “And that's how you knew my mother?” 

The Springtrap laughed, tilting the broken head to the side, “That is not all to the tale, Vincent...” He went silent, human and animatronic eyes locked on each other. Finally he spoke again, low and slow, “Victoria Valenteno, is my niece. Which make you...” If the animatronic could grin any wider it would, “My great-nephew.” 

“What?!” Vincent massively tensed up, his eyes wide with shock, “Y-you're my great-uncle? H-how? I never heard of you. Nobody ever told me that you were...” He trailed off. Of course nobody told him about Him, why would they? They didn't know he was the killer, and by the time Vincent was born, the whole Fazbear Murderer case went cold and was filed away. His mother and father would have never told him about such a family member—it would tarnish the name of the family. 

“Nobody ever found out what I had done, that I was the one who killed those brat children,” Springtrap hummed, once again leaning in towards Vincent, “They knew of my horrors, just never knew it was me. Once I vanished people most likely never learned that it was me. They likely noticed I was gone from work, but like they really cared. Perhaps that idiot Schmidt if he was over the loss of Fitzgerald, but nobody else. Poor Scott,” it was hard to tell, but Vincent could have sworn there was a bit of sorrow in the cruel voice, “Didn't live long enough to see my demise. Those little bastards stuffed him into a suit thinking he was me. Pathetic little children, unable to tell the difference between the guards and myself, until Schmidt befriended them, learning too much about what happened. They closed the damned place before he learned so much that I had to get rid of him too, and I could destroy those suits. Nobody would find the evidence.” 

“But they found you,” Vincent sighed, glancing towards the exit of the room, “That's how you got trapped in the suit yourself. You were surprised, caught off guard, so you went in the suit. You thought they wouldn't recognize you in the suit. You felt invincible, powerful, causing you to laugh in triumph, forgetting about the springlocks, until...” He couldn't continue, shivering at the thought of the next events that took place. 

Springtrap leaned in closer to Vincent, jaw half way open, head nearly tilted in a ninety degree angle, and the silver eyes narrowed, “How do you know about that? Nobody else was there to witness the end of my mortal life but myself and those children.” 

The male hesitated, finally returning his gaze to the animatronic, “It was a dream I had, a nightmare before you started to plague my mind. It happened the night before the Fright Attraction burned down.” Hate boiled back up in his mind reminding him of his time of fear and pain from those nightmares, more than what it had ever been before, “I saw every bit of it, and I didn't feel a single drop of pity for you. You deserved death, not surviving such a painful end. Your spirit at least survived, but it would have been better for everyone if you stayed dead!” Vincent snarled at the animatronic, clenching his hands into tight fists, “Or if that fire burned you to ash, that would have worked too. But it didn't.” 

“Do you think it wold be that easy to get rid of me?” Springtrap mused, closing the opened jaw, “You should know yourself why a spirit doesn't move on and lingers in this world.” 

Vincent hissed under his breath, “Because they have unfinished business in this world, or something is keeping them here.” 

At this point the Springtrap's face was pressed against the glass case, eyes burning into Vincent, “Exactly child,” the voice purred, “And lucky me, I have both. This suit is my eternal prison. I am trapped, unable to continue my work because those little brats bound my soul to this prison. My escape was denied, however...” he let out a low menacing laugh, “Now, I am invincible! I cannot die, I cannot suffer injury! The only downsides are the fact I feel nothing—no pleasure, no pain, no ecstasy—I cannot leave the facility myself either, even if I try to slip out in an ethereal form. I have other ways to continue my purpose though, ways that I can feel these emotions once more.” 

A creeping sense of fear and terror encompassed Vincent, a cold chill running down the line of his spine—he knew what Springtrap was referring to, or more to whom he was referring to. 

He gulped, taking a step back subconsciously, “M-me.” Getting out that one word felt like it was the hardest thing he had ever done in his life. A soft purr rumbled in his ear, “Exactly my dear Vincent. You are my key to freedom, my tool to continue my purpose. With you, I can continue my work, I can feel the pleasure, and the brats don't even have to be in this retched place to be slaughtered!” 

“And if I don't want to?!” Vincent grimaced, taking another step back. 

The numbness returned to the front of his mind, hazing his focus, making it difficult to focus on the animatronic, or anything, “You don't have a choice, dear child,” the voice became louder and more demonic, the animatronic eyes glowing bright purple, “You are mine!” 

Vinc's body shook even more, tripping over his own feet, “N-no!” He shook his head violently side to side as he backed away from the animatronic, attempting to push the voice out of his mind, “I'm not a puppet to play with! I-I can't let this happen, Sebastian and Mimi need me!” He froze, worry rising for them—they were the favorite kind of victims of the twisted soul: innocent children. 

“It doesn't matter!” The Springtrap laughed, the voice loud enough to drown out all of his other senses. Vinc clutched his head in his hands, shutting his eyes firmly shut as the volume of the voice became unbearable, “You are mine to play with!” He let out a scream of agony before his senses became so overwhelmed, his body screaming for it to stop. 

Once his screams stopped, all his senses became empty, his emotions washing away to emptiness. Blinking slowly he glanced up, feeling the numbness take over, staring into the animatronic eyes. The longer he stared into the eyes, his thoughts became darker. He felt his mind start to reboot as somebody entered the room, and jumped when a hand was placed on his wounded shoulder, “Vincent?” The man let out a soft screech as he winced from the touch on his wound. 

He jerked a bit, turning his head to look at the owner of the hand; Jean stood above him, an extremely worried expression planted on his face, “Are you alright?” The owner glanced from Vincent to his shoulder and back to his face, “Did you hurt your shoulder?” 

Vinc faked a smile before standing up, meeting the owner's gaze, “Yeah, sorry shoulder just really started hurting suddenly. Hurt it a couple days ago". 

Jean was silent, before he nodded, “I think you should take the day off, Vincent. You've been working a lot lately and you look awful. The place won't fall apart without you.” Vincent tried to protest, but it was cut short by the other, “This is not up for negotiation. Go, we'll be fine!” 

Frowning, he didn't have much of a choice but to comply. Taking a glance to the Springtrap, he left the room followed by Jean who started talking again, “We'll have somebody come check on you tomorrow morning, but if they say you still don't look too good or rested up, you won't be coming in tomorrow either.” His eyes turned to a gaze of disbelief, “What? Two days of no work? I can't do that! I can't afford it.” 

Tim wandered over, a slightly stern expression on his face, “Yes you can, because we are making it so. You will still get paid for those days you are out don't worry!” 

He couldn't argue with Jean and Tim, and not because he didn't want to. The bosses were not keen on firing employees, but if he didn't take the vacation or sick days they offered, that might be an offense that would get him fired for sure. They had some weird policies they worked off of. 

Sighing, he nodded defeated, “Alright then, sirs. I'll be back tomorrow for sure, unless I die of boredom at home,” he added the last part a little quieter than the rest, “I don't know what I can do for that day...” 

Jean grinned, waving away Vincent, “Get a lot of sleep!” Him and Tim waved to Vincent as he went to the front doors, “Sleep helps with everything!” _If only they knew how wrong they were..._ Vincent frowned, heading out of the facility and to his car.


	21. Day Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a day off from Freddy Fazbear's Family Pizzeria--away from the entity that had been bothering him constantly--Vincent goes through the day exactly how he expected: dully. Of course, there is always a small exception to the expected...

The day was as he expected: skull achingly dull and full of nothing but him laying in his bed contemplating life and his future. He didn't like thinking about the future before, but with these new turns of events, he hated it even more. Sighing, he finally pried himself off his bed, heading into the living room where Mimi was curled up in a ball of blankets watching more of the show she was first introduced to. 

“Are you ever going to get tired of watching that?” Vincent laughed as he went to the fridge for a soda, “It only has two seasons and once you get through them, then what?” The small girl shrugged, glancing over to her caretaker, “I may browse a bit around, see if there is something good.” Vinc smiled a little, pulling out a grape soda from the fridge, “Just don't go through my stuff, it's not child appropriate most of the time.” 

“What if I already looked through it?” Mimi peeped out, pulling her arms out from under the blankets. He shook his head in dismay, popping the lid off of the glass bottle, “Well then that's your own problem. Most of that stuff is PG-13 violence, and you are surely not that age yet. I'm not going to be an irresponsible caregiver and let you see that,” he paused with a grin, “At least until you are ten.” 

“Awh, then I have to wait two more years before I can,” She pouted, crossing her small arms over her chest. _Oh, that's how old she is,_ Vincent hummed to himself, _she's only a year younger than Sebastian_. He flopped down on the couch next to the blanket ball hiding Mimi, “What episode are you on?” She giggled, concealing her arms once again, “It's the one with the sock puppets.” Vincent chuckled, deciding to watch it with her instead of going back to his room to contemplate life, “Oh, I love that one.” 

A few episodes later, Vinc heaved himself up off the couch, Mimi's gaze following him, “Not going to stay for some more?” He shook his head in response, “I need to go pick up Sebastian from school.” Gently he ruffled her hair, “I'll be back soon.” Swiping up his keys, Vincent left the apartment. 

Half way through the hallway he was met with an exhausted looking Joseph, “Jeez, get some sleep Muse of Bonnie.” Joseph glanced up, his eyes widening a bit when they made contact, “Boss dude, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work right now?” Vinc hesitated, sighing heavily, “I wish I was. Apparently forced to take a sick day.” 

“Well you do look pretty dead exhausted,” Joseph joked, getting a small smile from Vincent, “I bet nowhere are bad as you look.” He gave the teenage a quick pat on the back before heading to the front exit, “Make sure to rest a bit before your shift, I need to go.” A few steps away from the door he heard Joseph sing out his words, “Yes sir, boss man!” He could also tell that the teen saluted him before they both went through different doorways. 

He still liked that teen, despite their rather awkward first encounter: he was so upbeat and full of life, nothing like the way he himself was when he was a teenager. 

Brushing away the event to the back of his mind, Vincent unlocked the door to his car. Hopping in the car he took a quick glance at the time, as well as how full the tank of gas was. It was sufficient enough to get him to Seb's school and back, to work the next day, but on the way home that day he would have to refill it. 

As he turned the ignition the car came to life. He exhaled slowly, still working on ignoring the numbness still lingering in his mind. It hurt him, not being able to tell anyone about what happened that night, to give them the whole truth rather than the partial truth he gave Mike. He felt horrible not telling it all to the man who was growing quickly into one of his closest friends, and it became even worse when he couldn't tell Sebastian. 

His relationship with the kid was very tight knit: they told each other everything, from not doing a homework assignment or forgetting to brush their teeth one night, to Vinc's “grape juice” stored in the little fridge he keeps in his closet. Nothing was kept from each other, until now. Vinc couldn't tell Sebastian the truth—he couldn't just dump something like that onto the nine-year old. They had both experienced so much horror in their lives and they both still had more than half their life ahead of them. He wasn't afraid of how Seb would react to the death, but more what it would cause between the two. 

Vincent was afraid. He was afraid of how Sebastian would feel being around him, knowing that he killed a man, even if it was in defense of the kids he was raising. There was that lingering fear that he couldn't control when these “fits” would happen, where he would lose control of his own mind and emotions, that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from harming the kid he loved with all his heart. Another fear stopping him was that Seb would no longer feel safe around him, that Seb himself would be scared of the possibility of the fit rising. 

And Mimi. He cringed at the thought of what it would do to her. She had just found a place where she could feel safe, that she could be loved. Would she still feel safe, knowing that he had these fits that would cause him to become violent and aggressive? 

_What even makes you think this is a reoccurring thing?_ His mind questioned him, _it could only be a one time thing. The man could have just pushed you far enough that you snapped. You don't have to worry about it happening again_. There was truth to his thoughts, he wasn't sure it was something that would happen multiple times. It could have been just a one time moment, and it will never happen again. 

Satisfied with the conclusion he put his car in gear, finally heading out to get Seb from school. It was going to be difficult to keep it concealed from the kid, but he would have to do his best. For their sake. 

It only took a few minutes before Seb and Vinc parked in front of the apartment complex, “Man I love living near school.” Seb sniffs the air, smiling, “Don't have to wait too long between school and home, unless you're late.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Vinc laughed, pushing the kid forward playfully as he pulled the backpack out from the back of the car, “Don't forget your backpack squirt. And,” He added in the last bit, holding onto Seb's backpack as Seb grabbed it, to make sure he didn't run ahead, “Got a call from the school today.” Sebastian visibly cringed, avoiding his eyes, “Yeah, you know what it's about. You get your homework done, so turn it in for the love of everything. It's not that hard. They also told me that their having a sort of 'career day' tomorrow and want some volunteers. They asked me to participate.” 

“I don't think you'll like it,” Seb frowned, still avoiding eye contact with him. These actions were starting to bring up worry inside Vinc, “Hey,” he knelt down to Seb's height, placing his hands on both of the kid's shoulders, “What's wrong?” 

“Nothing's wrong,” Seb lied. It was a poor attempt at a lie, “Sebastian Castenallo Valenteno, what is wrong?” The young boy frowned even more at his full name being used. Finally, Seb met eyes with Vinc, “Some kids are... being mean. They, they've been teasing me about not living with my parents. That, I'm being raised improperly because I'm not with my parents...” 

“Again?” Vincent sneered at the words coming out of Seb's mouth, “Don't those kids understand it already?” He felt that anger boiling up, and after realizing it, tried to smooth it down, “Listen, Seb. They just don't understand that some people don't have such perfect lives where their parents really care for them. We're a unique case,” he smiled a bit, pulling the young boy close to him, wrapping his arms around the small shoulders, “But we aren't alone. We have each other, and now we also have Mimi. It doesn't matter what those kids think. All we need is the three of us, and that's it.” 

He waited, watching Seb's face until he got a small smile from the kid, “There it is,” Vinc chuckled, patting the kid on the cheek, “There's that good old smile of yours. Now,” standing up he closed the back door to his purple car, “Let's get inside. I've got the day off tomorrow, so I'll come into that career day and show them that you have the best caretaker in the world.” 

“Okay!” Seb nodded, bounding ahead of Vincent into the apartment complex. A smile came to his face, watching the kid so happy and free. He loved being able to bring Seb's spirits up on the rare occasion they were down—a way to thank the little guy for all that he did for Vinc, even if he didn't know it. 

Vincent followed Seb not too far behind, having to push him out of the doorway so he could get the keys into the lock to open the front door. Once inside, Seb nearly jumped on top of Mimi, getting a squeak of surprise from the little girl, “Ah! Seb, careful.” 

“Oh, sorry,” Seb laughed, flopping over on the couch, his feet barely touching the ball of blankets hiding Mimi, “I didn't see you there.” The little girl shoved his feet back, giggling, “You didn't even look before you jumped.” 

“Did too,” Seb stuck his tongue out. 

“Did not,” Mimi replied with sticking out her own tongue. They continued to exchange those two words each, Vincent deciding to work on making dinner rather than trying to break the two up, or listen to them go back and forth. 

Opening the fridge he took a glance at what items he had for ingredients: there were a few eggs left—he couldn't think of anything to make with them though—and there was some meat that was going to go bad if he didn't cook it soon. _Let's go with Spaghetti tonight. Kids will love it,_ he nodded to himself, pulling out the package of ground beef, placing it on the table. He pulled out a few pans, one for cooking the meat the other for the noodles, placing one the stove. Bringing the other to the sink he began to fill it with water. 

As the water rose within the pot, his mind started to feel blurry, a woozy feeling falling over him, _What the...?_ He blinked a few times, then closed his eyes, trying to calm it down. His head began to throb, pain ebbing into his skull. _What the heck?_ Vincent winced, dropping his grip on the pot, cringing even more when it clattered down into the sink, banging against the plates already in the sink, the water spilling out into the metal basin, bit splashing outside onto the granite counter-top. 

“Vincent?” Mimi's worried voice called over, her head peeking from the other side of the couch arm, “Are you okay?” The words didn't register at first in his mind—everything seemed distant and off. The blue eyes glanced over to Mimi, hearing a voice coo in his ear, _I remain._

His eyebrows scrunched up, trying to calculate where the voice came from, _I will always remain_. Feeling a small hand on his leg his attention shot down, seeing the worried eyes of Sebastian gazing up at him. _I will always come back_. Seb opened his mouth, speaking but no sound drifted into Vincent's ears. 

Blinking slowly a few times, the world around him became clearer once again, hearing the voice of his nephew, “Uncle Vinc?” Back in reality, Vincent shook his head, clearing away the remaining fog in his mind, “Ugh, huh?” Frowning a little he placed a hand on Seb's head, noticing Mimi was coming over, worried as well, “Sorry, just a really bad headache.” The two kids didn't look convinced, “Maybe you should sit down and we can order pizza or something,” Mimi suggested. 

“I need to use up that meat,” Vincent shook his head, glancing back over to the sink where the pot laid, a small pool of water still held within, “I'll be alright.” 

“At least let us help somehow!” Sebastian pouted, tugging on the leg of Vinc's jeans. He smiled down at the kid, “You're too short to reach the stove and I don't want you near hot surfaces.” It wasn't that he had no confidence in the kid's ability to concoct a way to get up to the stove, but he didn't want to have the two kids worry about him and get too close to him. His mind was still foggy no matter how much he tried to shake it away, and he didn't want to cause damage to any one of them. 

It took him a few tries to get the pot onto the stove, but once he did get it there with full water it was all easy from there. Smiling to himself he watched the ground beef starting to change to the darker brown from red as it cooked. The smell of the cooking meat caused his stomach to turn a little—he hated that smell, especially now. He reached across the stove into one of the cabinets, pulling out a large container of dried white onions, _perfect counter for that smell_. Dropping a small hand full of the dried onions onto the meat he stirred it in, glancing over to the two kids sitting on the high stools watching him with wide interested eyes as he worked, “Having fun over there?” He joked, pulling out a jar of spaghetti sauce. 

“How did you learn to cook?” Mimi quarried, tilting her head to the side, gently rubbing at the eye patch over her missing eye, “Can you cook anything really hard?” 

Both Seb and Vincent snorted with amusement at the last part, “Oh, I've tried,” Vincent shook his head, popping off the lid of the bottle of sauce, “Didn't end well. Nearly burned the place down. But I did take a foods and nutrition class in my high school years. Learned how to cook some things. Spaghetti isn't that hard anyways.” 

The adult laughed, Seb rolling his eyes, “You could burn cereal.” 

Vinc shot a playful glare at Sebastian, “And you can light a glass of water on fire.” Between the two of them, Mimi let out a burst of giggles, “Hehe,” They both glanced over to her, “That's actually impressive.” 

“It is quite impressive,” Vincent grinned, dumping the whole bottle of sauce into the skillet with the now browned meat, “You can have skill to make really fine foods, but you need real skill to burn something that doesn't even use heat.” The two kids nod their heads in agreement, watching as Vincent turned back to the skillet, mixing in the sauce with the meat, checking on the cooking noodles, “Food will be done in a few moments.” 

The two kids let out a squeak of excitement before rushing over to the dining table, plopping their butts down onto the two chairs they chose as their spot. This action caused Vinc to let out a quiet snort of amusement, going to a cabinet and pulling out a strainer. 

In a few minutes everything was done and portioned out into three plates. He smiled, placing two of the plates in front of the kids, then sat down at his chair with his own plate. There was hardly a heartbeat before Seb and Mimi were chowing down, “Seriously you two,” Vincent rolled his eyes, “breath a bit and don't inhale it.” The two frown and slow down on their inhaling, “There you go, at least inhale it slowly.” 

As usual Vincent was the last one to finish his food, and both Seb and Mimi were already at the television once again, though they were good and put away their plates into the sink. Standing up, he let out a sigh, picking up the plate taking it to the sink. 

He still felt a little weird, his mind wondering where the voice had came from, and how he was hearing it. The Valenteno home was miles away from Freddy Fazbear's Family Pizzeria, so how could he be hearing His voice? Shaking his head, the plate was put into the sink, running some water over it, “What are you doing?” He sighed as he turned off the water, resting his hands on the edge of the sink. Hanging his head, Vincent closed his eyes, contemplating how it was possible. 

_They will remember_ , he heard the voice in his head, but it was hard to decipher if the words were the influence of another, or his own thoughts. Vincent grimaced, lifting a hand up to his head, “What?” _They will remember me..._ He winced a little, _they will remember us._

After the last words, the fog in his mind cleared away instantly, bringing rise to pure confusion. _What did it mean by they will remember us...?_ Vincent thought to himself, standing up straight. He knew the voice came from the entity trapped within the Springtrap, and unfortunately he had found out that this entity was related to him. _Maybe that's why I'm so susceptible to him..._

A sense of being watched fell over him, his blue eyes darting back and forth. Who could be watching him? He focused his eyes on the two kids, seeing that their eyes were glued to the television, too busy watching the dancing images on the screen to even glance over to their caretaker. It couldn't have been them. 

Before he had a chance to even breathe, he felt something, a smooth calming, soft touch on the side of his face, running from his chin up his jawline. The touch felt relaxing despite the cold chill that ran up his spine. He breathed softly, hearing the low voice purr in his ear, “Let's play some games.” 

Shaking his head he brushed off the feeling—almost unwillingly—then, as if nothing happened, he walked over to the couch to join the two kids watching the television until it was time for bed. 

He shooed the two kids off into their bedrooms before going into his own. As he changed into his pajama bottoms he could feel that sensation rise again: the comfort, the soft touch in his mind. A soft smile came to his face, letting his shirt be discarded next to the bed. A renewing invigoration filled his veins, his mind tingling with anticipation. He had to make sure to be ready, for the games were just starting, and the fun was yet to be realized. Letting out a hum he nestled under the covers of his bed. Vincent would have nightmares that night, of blood, decay and death, but he would not mind. His thoughts were dazed, his vision changed. As each little body bled out, screaming and twitching on the ground, he stood there the razor sharp end of the silver hammer glistening with blood and bits of hair gripped tightly in his hand. The dark monstrous grin gleaming in the dim lights as he absorbed every scream and twitch of the small bodies, watching as the life left their eyes. Only when he woke up in the morning, did he regret those feelings. 

Trying to explain what had happened the previous day, was simple since it was Mike Schmidt they sent to check on him. Of course, the only way the guard would okay him to go back to work was to explain exactly what happened. Much to his surprise, as he explained the whole happening, Mike didn't bat an eyelash, he didn't even accuse him of being a murderer. Instead, the guard smiled, stood up, and forced Vinc to go get some coffee with him before letting him back to work the next day: the guard even volunteered to join Vinc at Seb's school for the 'Career Day.' Even though Vinc kindly declined the offer, Mike was still there at the event, enjoying every moment he got to talk with the kids about the exciting job at Freddy Fazbear's Family Pizzeria.


	22. Hallow's Week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Halloween Week at Freddy's! Employees are getting ready for the holiday and even the bosses have a little surprise for them!

He felt strange again, but this time it wasn't the blurry, fuzzy feeling he would get on occasion. This was like how it was when he first got the “gift” from the Springtrap: he felt light and happy for reasons he could not understand. 

Today was a unique day for Pizzeria as they began preparations for the very first Freddy Fazbear's Family Pizzeria Halloween Week. He guessed he was just happy with the way the place was going to look for the spooky holiday. 

The idea for Hallow's Week—as they called it—came to the two bosses randomly after they had been looking through old pictures of their costumes as a kid—of course they always wore matching costumes. 

Usually, Vincent was used to twins or lovers to wear matching costumes, but what he had heard from Mike, Jean and Demetri never saw eye to eye, and Demetri was always excluded from things when he was a kid. It made him feel sympathy for the man, but he knew the technological genius would kill him for it, so he kept it to himself. 

“What's planned for Monday?” Alice huffed next to him, arms crossed over her chest as she glanced over to him why other employees were busy hanging various “spooky” decorations, “Are we going on a body hunt for Bob's stupid corpse?” 

The manager flinched a bit at the mention of the man, trying to hide the nervous nausea that washed over him, “Why would we do that?” He focused over to her, calming down the flash of nerves that rose up, “We don't know if Bob is really dead or was just driven away.” 

The female shrugged, turning her gaze over to another group of employees, “Maybe the terrifying asshole got him.” 

“The what?” Vinc rose and eyebrow, confused by what she meant by that—most people were called assholes by Alice. 

“The animatronic in the Fright Room,” there was distaste in her voice when talking about the Springtrap, though Vinc personally didn't blame her for feeling that way, though he didn't know quite why she was so angry and distasteful towards it. 

“You mean the Springtrap?” He quarried, looking at her face, focusing mostly on her eyes. 

“Yeah that thing,” She scoffed, something deep in her eyes reflected a feeling of loss and despair. 

She had an encounter with Springtrap before, Vincnet knew that look well, “How did you encounter it?” He felt a little bad for pushing out the question, but he was deeply curious how she knew of it besides the fact she refused to go into the Fright Room no matter what. 

“Fucker killed my boyfriend and my friends,” She frowned, her eyes still reflecting her bitter distaste and loss, “Four years ago a group of my friends and I decided to go to that abandoned auction house and spend the night there, since Adam dared his younger brother to do it.” 

“Wait, Adam?” Vincent glanced over to one of the security guards, who was currently talking with Damien and Coral, “You mean that Adam? He did tell me that he lost his brother but he didn't say how.” 

Alice nodded in response, “Yeah. Josh was his name. There was six of us who went in, and only myself and my sister made it out. It was horrible.” 

Alice shivered from the memory, making Vincent uncomfortable, “It's alright, you don't have to talk about it. I understand, it was a horrible time in your life and you don't want to relive it.” 

“I really don't want to forget it though,” the female heavily sighed, closing her eyes, “If I forget that time, I'll forget my friends. I swore that I would find their bodies and give them a proper burial, but by the time I got a good time to go, they had torn the place down. It was horrible to see the effects...” She shook her head, visibly holding back tears. In a blink, she stuffed the emotions down, returning to her normal expression and tone, “But really, what's going to be happening for Monday of Fazbear's Halloween Week?” 

Vincent paused, thinking about asking a bit more of information about what happened to her friends, but as she continued to stare at him with no hint of wanting to go back to the previous conversation, he gave up, “Not quite sure what they want to do, but I do know that on Friday, which is Halloween, they want to throw a large party to celebrate the holiday as well as Jean's birthday.” 

“Isn't that your birthday as well?” Joseph piped in as he walked over to the two. 

Vincent shrugged in response, “Yeah,” he inhaled slowly, exhaling at a slower rate, “But I'm not a fan of celebrating it. Besides, from what Mike said, Jean will pout if he's not the center of attention.” 

He grinned at his own mocking, though it was bad to be mocking his boss. Despite this, both Alice and Joseph laughed, both sharing the sentiment, “He is a bit of an attention whore.” Alice giggled. 

"Wait," Vincent glanced to Joseph, curiosity and a bit of weariness in his expression, "How do you know when my birthday is?" 

The Muse of Bonnie shrugged, "Apparently your little kid told my sister Jessica about it. Said that he was going to be celebrating his uncle's birthday so he couldn't go Trick-or-Treating with her." 

"Well," Vinc sighed, shaking his head, "That's better than you suddenly knowing my birthday without me or somebody telling you. That means either you got access to the employee records or-" 

"Or he could have just looked at the calendar in the employee lounge," Alice butted in with a grin, "It has employee birthdays on there." 

“Still doesn't mean us employees can't throw you a secret one. We can have it in the break room during the night,” Joseph grinned, crossing his arms over his chest returning the conversation back to it's previous topic, “It'll be fun.” 

“You mean why all the kids are going to be there?” Vincent snorted, shaking his head, “No thanks.” He noticed the confused looks on both employees' faces, “That's the other thing. Jean and Tim decided that the Halloween party is going to be a sleep-over at the Pizzeria. There's going to be about twenty-five kids all jammed into this place for a night of spooks and ghost stories.” 

“Oh god,” Alice moaned in defeat, “That means we're going to have to stay over night as well.” 

Vinc held back a laugh as Jospeh joined in with the unhappy groan, “Not only will we have to deal with an all-nighter, but an all-nighter with twenty-five children.” 

“At least two of those kids will be well behaved,” Vincent chuckled, picking up his cellphone as it buzzed with a notification. He glanced to the device seeing a message from Jean: “Bring everyone to the main room, pronto.” Quickly he replied with a “will do” before heading towards the front of the Pizzeria, “Come on you two,” he looked over his shoulder, “Meeting in the main room.” 

Shortly after him Alice and Joseph followed Vincent into the main room, Vinc picking up a couple of employees on the way there. Once everyone was gathered, through all the mumbling and whispers, Jean and Tim appeared from their offices, heading over to the stage, signaling for Vincent to join them. 

Vinc nodded and joined the two up on the stage. Clearing his throat, Jean waited until the whispering died down, “Thank you all for coming in a bit early!” The tone coming out from his mouth was cheerful as always, “We're glad to finally introduce the schedule of the Fazbear Halloween Week!” 

Next to him Tim let out a squeal of excitement, “It's going to be awesome!” 

“Today will be mostly just spreading the word,” Jean beamed, smiling at his partner, “And today we will be giving out a piece of candy to every child who comes in. Also make sure that the decorations are up and look good!” Both Jean and Tim look to Vincent, who in return jumped a little, but gave a small nod that he understood they wanted him to oversee that. 

“Tuesday will be the beginning of the activities,” Tim clapped his hands together in joy, “This will be mostly arts and crafts like coloring pages, making paper ghost and ghouls! Oh!” The boss burst out suddenly, scaring Vincent by the sudden action, “On Monday we are going to collect cards that are handed out to parents-” 

“One for each kid!” Jean added in before Tim could continue. 

“Yes! One card for each kid given to their parents.” The blond haired boss pulled out index sized cards with four names on it: Freddy, Bonnie, Chica and Foxy one below the other, Freddy's name first of course, “The kids will decide what costume the animatronics will wear!” 

“Oh!” The mechanical voice came from behind the curtain, a purple paw pushing the velvet cloth from in front of him, “I like that idea!” Bonnie stepped from out behind the curtain, along with Freddy and Chica not too far behind, “It's great for the children,” Chica beamed, holding her cupcake close, “I love seeing the creativity of the children.” Freddy nodded in silent agreement with his band mates. 

“We knew you guys would love it!” Jean, despite having predicted the response from the animatronics, still overflowed with joy, “On Monday night we will tally up the most common costumes, and on Tuesday we'll have new cards ready with the top three choices for the animatronics. After that on Tuesday night we'll get them all costumed up!” 

From the Pirate's Cove came a snort, “We?” A few employees glanced over to see the golden eyes lidded with a distinct lack of amusement—more than normal coming from the sociopath, “I think you mean I will be getting them in the costumes.” 

Closely following behind Demetri was Foxy, a few cables connected to the back of his neck, the yellow animatronic eyes widened with curiosity, glancing at the decorations, “When will me Cove be gettin' the decorations?” 

“Soon Captain,” Demetri dryly responded, glancing to the pirate before returning his gaze to his brother and Tim, “Just make sure it's not something horrible. I don't want to try to get the Captain here into a fairy costume.” 

At the remark the animatronic pirate fox let out a growl, his eyes narrowing, “Fairy?!” Foxy let out a snort of disgust, “I be a pirate, not some prissy little fairy!” 

Vincent held back a snort of amusement at the anger in the pirate, though he didn't want the Captain to be a fairy either; Halloween was a time for spooks and scares, not sparkly fluttering fairies—especially for a hardy pirate like Foxy. Vincent cleared his throat to speak up, “I do think the animatronics should have some say in what they want to be dressed up.” Then he turned his blue eyes to Demetri, “I'll help you out with getting them dressed up for the occasion.” 

“Wonderful,” Demetri responded with his normal lack of emotion, “And that is sincere. I don't want to be stuck doing this all myself. I have a hospital to get back to,” The tech genius shot a venomous glare at Tim and Jean, in which the glare went right over their heads. Letting out what was equivalent of an annoyed growl, he signaled Foxy to follow him back to the Cove, heading there himself, mumbling under his breath. 

“Wednesday will be Pumpkin Carving,” Tim continued, completely oblivious to the previous events, “We have a supply of pumpkins that will come in tomorrow. Of course, since safety is our number one concern here along with fun, kids much have constant supervision from either an employee or their parents when participating in the Wednesday activities. No supervision, no carving the pumpkins.” It was a good policy to hold, Vincent knew that one well having to take care of kids himself: sharp objects around children unsupervised is an equation for trouble. 

“Thursday will be when the attraction rooms will be set up into a haunted house,” Jean followed up after Tim finished the schedule for Wednesday, “It won't be something too scary. The animatronic models have been given lights to make their eyes glow and there will be fog, black lights and other creepy stuff for atmosphere.” 

_And we all know exactly where the haunted house ends_ , Vincent held in his laugh, _I bet Springtrap will enjoy that..._ The last part wasn't so happy compared to his other thought. 

“And of course!” Both Jean and Tim's voices rose with excitement, “Friday is the Halloween party! As well as celebrating birthdays!” Suddenly Tim's arm was around Vincent's shoulder in a half hug, pulling the young adult right next to the two bosses. Vinc's blue eyes glanced to his brown-haired boss with a mix of confusion and annoyance. His expression cried _why?_

As he stared at the boss with the look, Jean picked up the words hugging onto Vincent's other side, “We'll be celebrating my birthday as well as the manger's birthday!” 

“It's like he's a little twin!” Tim giggled, hugging onto Vincent tightly. A few giggled and laughed in the audience of employees, Vincent himself trying not to glare at his bosses or the employees that laughed. _So much for a calm Friday_ , He sighed internally when Tim finally let go of him, “Friday night we will have a group of...” Tim stopped, trying to think of the number of children, “Ummmm....” 

“Twenty-five kids,” Vincent added in before Tim hurt his brain even more. 

The boss grinned at him, nodding his head, “Right! Twenty-five children will be staying here for a sleepover. We need at least one day employee to join the night shift personnel.” More than likely, Vincent knew that he would have to drag people kicking and screaming if he wanted to recruit a couple others to look after the kids. 

Luckily, Coral and Damien were planning on staying for the night shift that day, mostly since they wanted, in Coral's words “to learn how it is to take care of children.” Vincent himself had told them that, despite how appealing it seemed—and how easy he made it look—raising a child was not the easiest thing to do. 

When nobody in the sea of employees responded to the request, Jean's face formed into a deep frown, “Nobody wants to help out?” 

Alice, who was in earshot of Vincent snorted, “Thanks but no thanks. I'd rather go back into that auction house again than help look after twenty-five brats.” 

Joseph, next to her, nodded in agreement, “I'm noping the fuck out of there as soon as possible on Friday. I have to take my little sister out trick-or-treating that night too.” 

Vinc gave the two a look of “thanks” with heavy sarcasm glinting in his expression. The only good thing was he didn't have to worry about somebody who really disliked him taking the shift with him, since the only one who disliked him was, well gone. Turning to the two bosses, Vincent spoke up,”I'll discuss it later with the employees. I'll get one of them to volunteer.” Both adults beamed with joy at the younger man, “That's a great idea!” 

It still disturbed him how many times the two bosses would mirror the other perfectly: with words, actions and tone of voice. It was as if they were made for each other. With no more information to deliver, the two bosses dismissed everyone to get ready for opening, handing the index cards with the animatronics' names on them to Alice, who was at front door duty that day.


	23. Playing at Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a rule at Freddy Fazbear's Family Pizzeria to not be in the facility at night. When two little rule breakers break this rule, Vincent is the one to deal the consequences...

His body shook slightly, feeling a rush of energy surge down his spine and into every nerve of his body. Something was itching at the back of his mind, an irritating itch that he had to scratch, but the cure was something he didn't know, or have. 

Mike had called in sick that day, saying he had some flu like symptoms and didn't want to get others sick. Vincent personally saw it more as an excuse not to come in, but he let it slide for the night guard: the man had came in early the last two days to help with tallying up the results for what costumes the children wanted for Freddy and his gang. 

A few hours ago after work Demetri ordered him around, gathering various supplies and tools to get started on the animatronic's costumes. The hardest one to get into their “costume” was Bonnie, since he kept picking at the special paint that went over his fur. It still looked silly, having the animatronic rabbit dressed up as a human skeleton. Chica was pretty easy since she just needed a cape and two of her teeth had a cap put on them to make them look sharp. Freddy was simple too, but had more work that Chica: He had to be painted green with stitches in his fur to look like Frankenstein's monster. Foxy just got a fancy hat as well as a tied belt and a fake sword attached to it. 

That only took a few hours to get done before Demetri retreated into the open world, leaving with a “Farewell Murderer.” Of course, Vincent was still confused about why he called him “murderer” and how the tech genius knew about what happened between him and Bob. 

Now, Vinc was left alone in the facility to wander around in the darkness, carrying the tablet in hand as he entered the attraction rooms, starting in the Fredbear Diner room. The itch still clung in the back of his mind irritating him even more. It had been there for most of the day, but had became worse as he was left alone inside the pizzeria. 

As his footsteps echoed through the empty rooms, the quiet pitter patter of feet between his steps caught his attention. _Is somebody here?_ Vincent stiffed up a little, gripping his flashlight tightly as he deciphered two footsteps coming from the sounds. It would just be his luck that somebody would break in when he was on guard. Gulping he returned to the main room, hearing the footsteps come from the Fright Room, _who would be in there....?_

“Vincent...” The low voice flowed, causing him to jump, dropping the tablet to the floor. It collided with the tile with a loud bang, the back breaking off of it, “Shit,” he cursed, picking up the tablet and its back, a large crack now covering the face of it, “That's going to be expensive...” Vinc popped the back onto the tablet again, pressing the button to boot it up, to make sure it was still working. 

“Forget about it, child,” Vincent cringed as the voice spoke up again, feeling that itch become stronger, “There is other pressing matters. Children are here.” 

“Children?” He felt a lump growing in his throat, a creeping feeling that he knew what would be next, “There's multiple here?” The question was more for himself rather than a want for a response, “Shit I need to get them out of here...” A low chuckle echoed in his mind. 

Vinc sneered in the direction of the Springtrap before heading back into the Fredbear Diner room, hoping to catch the children as they moved through the rooms. 

Half way to the Toy room he was met with two small figures, a blond haired boy and a black haired girl, both looking to be only about ten or eleven years old, “Eep!” The girl gripped the arm of the boy, slightly hiding behind him. 

Staring down at them, he let out a heavy sigh, kneeling down on one knee, “You two know you shouldn't be here at night, right?” He kept his voice calm, blue eyes watching as the gaze of the two avoided him. The boy was the one to speak up, “We wanted to know if the rumors were true, that the animatronics still attacked the night guards at night.” 

A dark amusement started to creep over him, the numbness starting to take over once again, “You wanted to see if they still attacked the guards?” Vinc snorted, low and, unlike his normal self, it had a dark undertone, “That's not a smart idea, but they do not attack the guards anymore.” He smiled, slightly showing his teeth, “How about I take you two to the office and call your parents. They must be worried sick about you.” 

“Please don't,” the young girl finally spoke up—or more squeaked out—coming out from behind the boy, “We'll get in deep trouble if they come and get us. We're supposed to be over at our friend's house right now. We'll give you something if you don't turn us in.” 

“Courtney,” the boy hissed to her, “We can't be offering something we don't have!” The girl glared to the boy meekly, “He doesn't have to know that!” 

“But it's mean!” The boy turned his gaze to the girl, balling his little hands into fists, “And he knows our face! We'd be banned from every game in this place if we tricked him!” 

“He's a night guard,” the young girl scoffed, too skillfully for someone of her age, “He can only ban us from things of the night shift.” 

The boy glanced to the tag on Vincent's jacket, then gasped, “He's the manager!” 

Vinc blinked slowly, debating internally what to do as they argued. Finally he settled on his decision, “Sorry kids,” he shook his head, interrupting the argument between the two kids, both small pairs of eyes turning to him, “I'm going to have to say no to that.” Slowly a dark grin spread onto his face, a disturbingly unusual sight for his mug, “It's the rule here at Freddy Fazbear's Family Pizzeria, to call the parents of any little children who break the rules. Now, what is your parents'-” 

Before he had a chance to say another word, the two kids exchanged a glance, then bolted out of the room in opposite directions: the boy heading towards the main room, the girl turning back to the Games Room. 

A sneer replaced the grin on his face, the dim purple glow radiating off his irises, “Seriously, running away?” He paused, pursing his lips in thought, “You're going to make this fun little children.” then his lips curled into a twisted smile, his eyes narrowing as he clenched his free hand into a fist, “Then I guess it's time to play.” Tilting his head to the side, he inhaled slowly, taking a few steps forward before clicking the flashlight off, “Time to start the hunt...” 

He let out a soft chuckle, stepping into the main room, placing both the flashlight and the tablet onto one of the confetti-covered tables. The tablet could tell him where the children were, but they were not perfect at hiding, and he knew the place like the back of his hand. 

From the corner of his eye he saw the small streak of the boy, remembering the gray and white stripped shirt he wore, run towards the security office, “Bad choice child...” he smiled, heading in that direction himself. A few steps into the hallway he mentally noted that the boy had to be in the back rooms since the handles were too tall for the child to grab leading to the supply closet or the employee lounge and the doors in the back remained open. 

On his way he stopped in the employee lounge, picking up one of the knives stored on the counter top for the purpose of cutting food. Quickly he examined it running his finger across the side of the smooth metallic surface, then went back into the hallway. 

“Come on little child,” Vinc let his voice come out smooth and calm, fingers gripping the wooden surface of the knife handle, pressing the back of his hand against his spine as he concealed the knife behind him, “You need to come out. There is always consequences to your actions. I promise I'll make sure it's painless.” The small whimper from the security office gave away the child's position. 

The smile on his face twisted into a cruel smirk, stepping into the office, closing the door behind him. A small figure huddled itself in the back of the office between the wall and the couch, hazel eyes wide staring at him, “Please mister,” the boy sniffed, pressing his back against the wall, “We just wanted to explore the Pizzeria at night. We don't want to get in trouble...” 

Vincent let out a low hum, walking towards the kid, “You really should have thought about that before you broke into the facility.” As he approached the kid his fingers gently drummed against the warm wooden surface of the handle, anticipation tickling his nerves. 

Within his eyes the purple glow had grown, swallowing the blue in its hue, leaving his eyes empty of his friendly empathetic look, replacing it with a dark sinister cover, “And all must pay the consequence for breaking the rules.” 

“I-I don't want to get in trouble with my parents,” the boy began to sob, curling in on himself, burying his head in his knees, “They'll ground me for the rest of my life.” 

Vinc smiled, kneeling down next to the kid, physically draining himself by stopping his body from lurching forward with the knife, placing his free hand gently on the kid's shoulder instead, “Don't worry,” his words flowed smoothly and sweetly off his lips, “You won't have to worry about that.” Eyes still wide, the child glanced up to him as he continued, “What's your name little child?” 

“Norman, sir,” the boy squeaked, still a bit frightened, “I didn't want to come here,” he sniffed, tears starting to form in his young hazel eyes, “Courtney forced me though, saying it would be fun and exciting... But I think she lied to me. It was a bit fun until we got to the Fright Room. That animatronic was watching us,” the kid shivered, “I saw it move but Courtney didn't believe me: said I was hallucinating.” 

Vinc hummed, moving a little closer to Norman, “Well Norman, I'll let you in on a little secret,” he waved his hand, signaling the child to come closer. 

The boy complied, coming closer to him, ignorant about what was to come, “What is it?” 

Swiftly, Vincent grabbed the child by the collar of his shirt, pulling him off his feet as he stood up to his full height in one quick movement, “The Springtrap is alive,” chuckling he pulled the kid up to his face, irises now completely purple and glowing brightly, “Something you won't be very soon.” 

Norman let out a screech of surprise, his tiny legs dangling in the air below him, “Mi-mister!” The words shakily came out of the boy, his small fingers trying to grip Vincent's hand, “What are you doing?” 

“Don't you listen child?” Vinc smirked darkly, revealing the knife from behind his back, “I told you rule-breakers must be punished and this is your punishment.” Letting out a low chuckle he pressed the side of the blade against the small frail neck, his breath hitched in anticipation. The child squirmed in his grip, the edge of the metallic blade pressing even closer to the soft flesh of the child's neck, leaving a gash when Vinc moved it away for a moment. 

“You shouldn't thrash around so much,” he snorted, checking the knife for any blood. Within seconds the knife was back against Norman's throat, “You'll ruin the fun little child if you die too quickly.” As the cold metal was held against the small neck, the boy began to stop squirming, letting out squeaks and whimpers. Gradually the whimpering grew louder and louder until it became a screech of terror. A high-pitched scream escaped the child, majority of the volume direct towards Vinc rather than trying to make it loud enough for others to hear. 

“Ow,” Vincent sneered, jerking his head back. The scream still rung in his ears, the purple glow to his eyes growing stronger, “That was rude little brat!” Anger danced in his eyes, all control over his mind and body slipping away. In one flowing movement, the knife was moved away from the child's throat and then lodged right into the fragile skull. He stabbed the knife in and out many more times, each in a different area of the child's head. 

Finally when the screams died off did he leave the knife alone, letting it sit inside what was left of the child's head. Vincent swayed his head side to side with a hum, blinking his eyes slowly as he gazed at the child's corpse. Another body to hide, but this small one would be easy to conceal compared to some of the others. Though, he sneered, gripping the corpse by the throat, there was another one out there still, whom more than likely heard the pitiful cries of her friend. He would have to get rid of her too. 

His eyes flickered open, seeing the child hiding under one of the tables in the Fright Room. The poor child was scared, her brown eyes wide with fear as she held her hands over her ears, trying to block out the screams. Chuckling, Vinc decided to first dump the small body into the dumpster outside—a suspicious disposal since the trash wasn't going to go out the next morning, but it was the best way to hide the evidence at the moment. 

Quickly he went outside through the employee lounge door, buried the body under some of the old rotten garbage, then slipped back inside. As he stalked towards the Fright Room where the little girl was hiding he heard a sound coming from the front doors. Somebody wanted in, which caused some anxiety and fear to rise in him. 

Slipping into the hallway, he quickened his pace to the Fright Room. He wasn't done playing, and he wouldn't let some stupid human bring an early end to it—an idea was formulating in his mind. Chuckling as he entered the room, his thin fingers slipped into the left pocket of his suit pants, pulling out a small transparent key, the one that fit the lock to the case holding the animatronic. 

“Tell me little child,” he mused as he walked over to the keyhole, not turning his gaze to the child, “Do you fear monsters?” 

Her eyes shot up at him, unable to grow any wider, “W-what do you mean?” The girl glanced to him, seeing him unlock the case, “Y-you mean that thing? It doesn't even function.” 

“Are you sure about that?” Humming Vincent stepped back from the case, both him and the girl watching as the animatronic twitched its jaw, emitting a low groan as it did so. Slowly, the head rose up from its resting position, the silver eyes glowing brightly. The Springtrap turned clumsily, pulling itself out from the confines of the display case, then gradually turned the gaze to the child underneath the table. 

“That's the thing little brat,” Vincent snorted, the Springtrap approaching the child it's jaw moving in unison as Vinc spoke, “Nothing is as it seems.” 

The girl let out a gasp of surprise and fear, backing herself farther underneath the table, “N-no! That thing is evil! It should be dead!” 

Letting out a low laugh, Vincent's eyes narrowed with a grin plastered on his face, the Springtrap now looming over the table, “You will come to realize,” as he spoke, the Springtrap gripped one side of the table and easily threw it to the opposite side of the room, “Evil doesn't die.” 

The girl tried to run, only to be swooped up by a large broken animatronic hand around her throat, lifting her off her tiny feet and into the air. She squirmed and gagged, giving a pleading look to Vincent, who only gave her a wicked smile, “Sweet dreams little one.” 

The door swung open, a semi tall man with black hair tipped with blond bursting in. Before he had a chance to say anything, the child let out a short scream before quickly being cut off by the sound of her skull shattering under the force of the animatronic's jaws, “Shit!” He held a hand over his mouth, composing himself before turning to Vincent, “Stop it!” 

Vincent's eyes widened slightly, for a moment the blue returned to his eyes, “Keith?” Before being swallowed by the purple once again, “You...” The Springtrap let go of the child's body as the animatronic body turned to face the old security guard, “Look who came back to finish the job...”


	24. His Final Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Old Fazbear Fright security guard, Keith, to the rescue?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay on this chapter. Last week was busy since I was doing my driving test to get my license. Good news is I passed! And by the time I got the energy to post the chapter it was too close to Friday. So hope it's worth the wait!
> 
> I've also been going through and doing some edits to the chapters, nothing big just mostly changing up paragraphs, adding bits and pieces to improve the flow.

“Leave the kid alone,” Keith sneered taking a challenging step forward towards the Springtrap. His eyes focused on the silver ones, un-moving and unafraid, “Why the kid? What did he ever do to you?” Keith held out his hands to the side, slightly shrugging his shoulders, “Shouldn't you pick on somebody your own size?” 

“What?” The low voice reverberated through the room, deep and foreign slipping from Vincent's lips, his eyes moving in unison with the animatronic eyes inside the decayed skull, “Like you, Keith?” The name was said with so much venom that it would have killed half the population, “The security guard who was more concerned about getting the glory about solving what happened to the children, rather than freeing the children for their own sake. Quite the glory you got didn't you?” He let out a low chuckle, spreading his arms out, “Now you're stuck in a little asylum with everyone thinking your insane! Not even your family cares for you, and the only glory you got, will only be recognized by, you.” 

The ex-guard flinched at the words, glancing to the side, “It still won't stop me from trying to destroy you again.” 

These words brought a loud maniacal laugh to rise from Vincent, throwing his head back as he laughed, “Destroy me?!” His head whipped back to focusing on Keith, eyes glowing a bright vibrant purple, “Going to do the wonderful job you did last time? Going to burn this place down like you did the little fright attraction? You cannot stop me brat!” A twisted smirk slipped onto his face, both Vincent and the Springtrap stepping towards the old guard, “You can't!” 

“That's exactly what you said when you told me I couldn't save the children,” A smirk came to Keith's face, crossing his arms over his chest, “I proved you wrong then, and I'll prove you wrong now!” He didn't back down as the Springtrap let out a low gurgling moan, his green eyes narrowing slightly, “You can try to stop me, but I will be the one stopping you.” 

“Confident aren't we?” Vincent hummed, the twisted smile still plastered on his face, “I will enjoy ripping it out of you along with your tongue and heart!” Vinc stopped only a few inches away from Keith, their eyes meeting, “You keep fighting this fight, a fight that doesn't concern you. Always poking your nose into things that don't concern you; actions like that will lead you to your demise. You must have a death wish... one that I will see comes true.” He let out a low chuckle, tilting his head slightly to the side, “But I will humor you for the moment. What do you think you can do to me?” 

“This!” Keith hissed behind gritted teeth, swinging out his arm and punched Vincent square in the nose. 

Vinc stumbled back, but didn't make any move to touch his face. Hunched down slightly with his head hanging down, he let out a low chuckle, strands of hair loose in the air, “Heh...” he inhaled sharply, the low chuckle slowly growing in a loud insane laughter, arching his back as it grew. 

It rose, his lips twisting painfully in a dark grin, echoing through the facility. Finally he let it grow back down into a low chuckle, focusing back onto the ex-guard, “Haha! Was that supposed to hurt me?” He held a hand against his chest, fingers touching the cloth of his suit jacket, “Because it felt good! That didn't hurt at all!” 

Vincent chuckled, barely observant of the blood that trickled down his face, “You just hurt him, or is that what you are going for?” The dark grin returned to his face, slowly rolling his neck. In the process he reached a hand back, pulling out the rest of the black-purple hair from the tie. 

The purple glowing eyes glanced towards the Springtrap, half closed with a heavy lack of amusement, “It's pathetic honestly, the feeble attempts both you and the boy make—almost embarrassing.” The eyes returned to Keith, “Both of you trying so hard to stop something beyond your control and ability.” 

“The boy?” Keith blinked a couple times in confusion, “You mean...” He paused, before his mind picked up what the other meant, “You mean Vincent! I'll stop whatever you are doing to him too!” He slightly lifted his hands, preparing for a fight. 

“You act as if he wants your help,” Vincent chuckled, the Springtrap taking a step towards the ex-guard, jaw agape, “Especially after the first time he tried to get your help. You abandoned him when he thought you could help him. You must have found something much more thrilling than helping the poor boy through his constant nightmares of the very thing you obsessed over: me. Was it not enough for you, hmmm?” He tilted his head, keeping the distance between them minimal, “You wouldn't get enough fame for helping out a poor boy who was just the son of a psychologist and a famous writer, right? Why bother with it then, it's not worth it.” He glanced to the side, smirking, “No wonder why the boy has such distaste and anger for you. I'll help him realize what he should have done with this anger long ago—especially now that he has met you face to face.” 

“I won't let you!” Keith hissed, clenching his hands into fists, “You won't be doing anything of the sort.” 

The words barely meant anything to the entity, Vinc letting out another low chuckle at the words, “'I won't let you!'” He mockingly mimicked Keith's voice, then let out a louder giggle, “You keep saying that over and over! You know that's the definition of insanity: repeating the same thing over and over expecting a different result. I see why they threw you into that asylum!” The voice that now came out of Vincent's lips was raised with sheer joy and amusement. 

“I put myself into the asylum,” Keith growled, “They didn't force me into the place,” he then broke eye contact with Vincent, “I went in for my own health.” Before he had a chance to return to his gaze to either threat, the large animatronic hand grabbed him by the throat, forcefully lifting him off his feet. Keith chocked and gagged, clawing at the hand around his neck. 

“Then you should have stayed in there pathetic child,” Vincent hummed low as he sauntered over to the Springtrap's side, “What drove you to come here, to leave the security of that nice little padded cell they put you in, to try again at stopping me?” 

The ex-guard coughed, tightly gripping the animatronic hand, “It's not a padded cell! They put me in a normal room.” 

“No difference.” 

“There is a huge difference!” 

“It is all the same in the end. Every room goes silent after the screaming is done.” 

“That's a little morbid don't you think?” 

“What did you expect?” 

Keith responded with another cough before speaking up again, “Nothing less from you... I didn't come here by myself anyways,” he paused, trying to adjust his position in the grip so his airway was a bit more open. He brought the conversation back to the previous topic, coughing again as he struggled to speak, “Somebody else brought me here.” 

“And who would help you out?” Vincent smirked slightly, enough to expose his back teeth to the dim lighting of the Fright Room, “What kind of moronic idiot would help you out?” 

His question was answered as the back entrance door to the Fright Room slammed open, “Surprise!” The person launched himself at the Springtrap the moment he stepped into the room. The speed at which the man launched himself was enough to cause the animatronic to fall forward as the man collided into it, barely missing Vincent and Keith as it toppled over to the floor. 

In the process of launching himself at the Springtrap, the purple and black security hat fell to the floor, resting where the man once stood before the dramatic leap he had taken. 

Keith scrambled to his feet, his heart beating fast as he stared wide-eyed at the fallen Springtrap. He rubbed his neck where he was held, then shot a glare to the black haired man still laying on top of the Springtrap's back, “Took you long enough to come! It almost chocked me to death before you came in!” 

The man rolled over so he was facing up, the cheesy grin plastered on his face, “I got distracted looking in the security office—don't go in there by the way, there's a lot of blood and pieces of brain bits around—besides,” He waved a hand, “You can stand to have a scare of your life once in a while!” Then the man got up, brushing off his shirt and pants, “That was fun, let's do it again!” 

“How about no!” Keith snapped at him, “And I've had enough scares to last a lifetime because of this demonic animatronic,” Keith aggressively gestured down towards the Springtrap before continuing, “ I'm not some thrill junky like you!” 

The other huffed, placing his hands on his hips in an insulted manner, “I'm not a 'thrill junky,' I just enjoy some excitement in my life!” 

“There is no difference!” Keith sneered at him, leaning in towards the guard. 

"Oh there is a complete difference between the two. I don't get high off of doing this job." 

"I wouldn't be surprised if you did." 

"Hey! I take my job seriously!" 

"Is that so old man?" 

"Oh oh, starting the insults now are we? Well two can play at that game you little arrogant fuck!" 

They were so absorbed into their argument as they continued to throw insults at each other, petty jabs such as “thrill junky” or “arrogant fuck” until a disgusted voice rose, “Schmidt... Of course it had to be you.” 

The black haired man whipped his attention over to Vincent, “Fuck that is terrifying! That voice should not come out of a nice guy like you! Sounds too much like...” He paused, confusion on his face, “That's not right, Head Guard jerk vanished...” For a moment he got lost in his thoughts, calculating if it could have been possible, that it was the man he was thinking of. With a shake of his head, he brought his mind back to the present, “But that shouldn't come out of you!” Mike stepped forward with his arms held out for a hug, “Come in for a hug man. Maybe that will cure you of the strange change in your voice.” 

Keith stopped Mike before he could get to Vincent with an outstretched arm across Mike's chest, holding onto his shoulder, “Don't, he'll probably rip off your arms or something. That's not Vincent.” 

Mike glanced between Keith and Vincent, getting a snide sneer from Vincent, “Ya sure?” He turned back to Keith, “Looks like Vincent just got a bit more of an attitude and forgot to put on his nice pants today.” 

“Don't you see his eyes?” The ex-guard snapped once again at the night guard, pointing to his own eyes, completely over the previous argument the two were having, “Purple! He's under the influence of the Springtrap!” 

Mike stood there silently for a few moments, “So he can change his eye color at will?” Keith remained silent, unable to start to comprehend how to respond to the other guard. 

“I thought that if it was the Springtrap it would have been that icky green-gold color, not purple,” Mike chuckled to himself, “I remember a guy who liked purple. I mean we were forced to wear purple, because it was the company's color, but I mean, woah, this guy loved purple. His car was purple, his regular cloths were probably purple, hell he probably saw things only in shades of purple.” 

The words continued to flow out of Mike's mouth, all three others in the room starting to get unamused. Within the ramblings of the night guard two words slipped out, “Purple Guy.” Upon hearing the words, the Springtrap let out the signature blood-curling screech, why Vincent hissed in distaste. 

Finally, it hit Mike, “Wholly shit!” He jumped a little, holding up his hands slightly in a defensive manner, “You're saying the spirit inside the Springtrap is influencing Vincent, and that he's the head guard?!” He blinked a couple times, then glanced down to the animatronic on the ground, which was struggling to get itself up off the floor, most likely in order to attack Mike, “Heh, he can't get up.” 

“You did tackle me to the ground,” the voice that came out of Vincent was dripping with venom, “Still an ignorant little pun maker aren't you?” 

Mike grinned full of pride before shrugging his shoulders, “I saw a problem so I tackled it.” 

“And still an amusing little shit too,” Vinc hissed under his breath, taking a step towards the two males, “Plus, still young as hell. Seems life didn't get the best of all of us...” 

Mike let out another laugh, glancing to his hand, "I'd hate to brag but I think Father Time is just too afraid to age me, because of how awesome I am. Death can't take me now!" 

Vinc stopped, hands balled into fists, “I'll have to change that by eliminating you and that pathetic man. You are foolish to come arms open wide to your own brutal deaths. You won't go any farther nor get in my way again, either of you!” Mike at first jumped back a little at the remark of ending his streak of not dying, then quickly calmed down. 

“I have a habit of getting in the way,” the grin on Mike's face came back brighter than ever, “I also have a habit of getting out of things without being harmed, and having a good time of it as well!” 

Vincent snorted in response, giving a dangerous sneer, “You won't be getting out of this one...” 

As he approached the two, Keith inhaled sharply, “I will kill him to stop you. I will not let that stop me from taking you down.” 

The words of the ex-guard affected Mike more than the one they were intended for, “What?!” His blue eyes whipped to the black haired man, “No! You can't kill Vincent!” The guard moved in between Keith and Vincent so he was sideways, not putting his back to either of them. He glanced back to Vincent, “It's not his fault the jerk face decided to choose him to be a dick to.” Then he turned his full attention back to Keith, giving him a stern glare, “I won't let you kill him.” 

“Fine,” Keith sneered lightly at Mike, turning his head and gaze to the side. When he returned his attention to Mike, he pulled something out from behind his back. What he revealed from behind his back was a gun, raising it up to his shoulder level, “Then I'll go through you too.” 

Mike let out a quiet whimper, his muscles tensing up, “Shit...” He took a step back, slowly raising his hands, “Listen, there are other things that can be done that doesn't involve death and being un-alived. We can get through this, no need for shots to be fired.... Where did you get that gun anyways?" 

"I took it from you," Keith sneered, holding his aim steady, "You need to keep a better grip on it." 

Mike reached to his back, patting where his gun had once been, and just like the ex-guard said, there was nothing there, "Shit!" He whipped his attention back to Keith, hearing a snide snicker behind him, "You're as bad as that golden eyed kid! Give it back, we don't need that gun going off, or any..." he paused glancing back towards the tiny corpse of the small girl, "more blood to spilled." 

Keith growled, his finger pressing against the trigger, “You don't understand this! While that thing is still alive nobody will be safe! It has to die, and everything related to it!” 

“You're not fucking killing Vincent!” Mike snapped at the other, lunging at him. Swiftly he grabbed the hand holding the gun, but Keith was quicker. 

The ex-guard kicked Mike in the gut hard, causing the guard to fall to the ground on his ass. Then, he repositioned the gun to point right at the guard, “I'm sorry.” Then pulled the trigger. 

As the shot rang out, the loud screech of the Springtrap drowned out the sound as well as the scream of pain from Mike. In seconds the large animatronic seized Keith by the shoulders, and quickly as he was lifted, the rotted teeth ripped into the flesh of his neck. Blood splattered onto the animatronic's face and body, as well as the night guard crouched on the floor clutching his upper right chest. 

Mike's eyes went wide, scooting back a few scoots. He noticed on a closer observation that the Springtrap's eyes were different. As he looked closer, he saw the glow in the cold dead eyes was a familiar color, “Vincent?” His attention snapped over to the manager, seeing his eyes had returned to their normal blue, but there was anger in them rather than his cheer. 

“You...” Vincent huffed through gritted teeth, his eyes showing the internal struggle he was having against the Springtrap, “You won't kill him!” His eyes narrowed, watching as the blood gushing out of Keith's open neck, “Fuck....” He paused, before the Springtrap bit into Keith again, then moved to his head, smashing the fragile skull between the animatronic jaws, “Fuck you...!” 

Then the Springtrap dropped what was left of the old guard, turning back to face the two remaining living humans. It hesitated, but then turned to the display case, stumbling back inside. Quickly Mike scrambled to his feet, shutting the door to the case behind the animatronic. 

Vincent relaxed, collapsing to the ground where he stood. The glow in the Springtrap's eyes died, and then it became enraged, slamming against the barrier of the case, screeching and groaning. Mike sighed, flopping down next to Vincent, still holding his chest, “Well...” he glanced over to Vincent, smiling a little, “You really did that. You fucking overpowered that jerk and...” he didn't finish, noticing that Vinc was uncomfortable with what he was going to say, “Alright, not going to say that part. But we should get rid of this and...” he glanced to the child's body, “And that.” 

Mike glanced fully over to Vincent, noticing the sorrow in his eyes, “It's not your fault Vinc, you were being controlled. We'll give the girl a proper burial, and we'll just tell her parents that the asshole Keith did it.” 

Vinc sighed, and made eye contact with Mike, “You still got those beers here? I think I can go for one of those right now...” 

Mike grinned, “Yeah. But I think I may need to go to the hospital first. I'm bleeding pretty badly, but after that we can have a beer.”


	25. A Birthday Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events on Wednesday night/Thursday morning, Mike decides to give Vincent an extra special gift, introducing a new friend to him.

Halloween was upon them quickly after that. The facility was packed tight with kids and adults alike, as what was expected for such a day. Fifteen out of the twenty-five kids who had signed up for the sleepover that night had came in already, something Vincent didn't quite understand: these kids were going to be spending all night at the pizzeria on top of spending the day there. It seemed a little excessive to him, and would probably get boring over those hours, but he wasn't a child so perhaps it was different being that age rather than an adult. 

Much to Vincent's surprise, as well, Sebastian's sisters had come to the pizzeria with the families they lived with. Most of the time, the two girls would come over to his place for horror movies and trick-or-treating with their favorite uncle as well as celebrating his birthday, but this time they came to his workplace. 

The group had came in a few hours before the pizzeria officially opened, carrying a few small gifts with them, wrapped in purple-blue wrapping paper and red bows. They always insisted spending Halloween with their favorite uncle. Luckily since Vinc was the manager, he was able to slip in the two girls and the three other kids that came along with them into the sleepover—since Seb insisted. 

The three other kids along with Lauren and Kate were a few years older than Seb—one being just four years older than him why the rest were in their teenage years, two females and one male. Justin, the oldest of the group whom Lauren lived with was the most excited to meet Vincent, which made Vinc smile. 

“Is it true that you're THE manager of this place?” Justin beamed, hardly keeping in his excitement. Ever since he had came in, Justin had been asking him multiple questions. The kid really wanted to work at the pizzeria, and had admired the work of the guards following stories about what happened in the past and present. Kid was inspired to say the least. 

Vincent, in response to this particular question, smiled and nodded, “The one and only, though at times I do wish I could have at least an assistant manager... to lighten the load.” 

The boy then shot a few more questions at him before Lauren stopped him, “Come on Justin, leave Uncle Vinc be. He's already got enough questions and crap from the countless employees and customers every day. Besides,” she smiled up to Vincent, “We should get stuff done since we're going to be staying for the employee party afterwards for Uncle Vinc's birthday party, right?” 

“Ehhh,” Vincent let the word draw on, shrugging his shoulders slightly, “Probably not. Since it's my twenty-first birthday the guys in security want to have a more adult party with drinks, give me the experience of alcohol since I'm the right age.” 

“Ignoring the fact that he's already had some beforehand,” a voice smugly chimed in, putting an arm around Vincent's shoulder. 

From the corner of his eye Vinc noticed the familiar black fingerless gloves, “Mike!” He smiled brightly, turning around to face the guard, “They finally discharged you from the hospital! How do you feel?” 

“I feel pretty alive,” Mike grinned back, pulling Vincent into a tight hug, “They told me I was recovering fine, and well Dr. D Paine was getting sick of me. Nearly threw me out of the place.” Before Vinc had a chance to say something, Mike whispered low into his ear, “Need to talk to you privately in the back.” 

“Is there something going on between the guard and your uncle?” Justin's whisper broke the attention of both adults. 

Mike let go of Vincent, putting his hands balled up onto his hips as he faced the kid, “A great friendship is what's going on with us. Going to write a fanfiction about it now?” 

Justin let out a snort, shaking his head, “Nah, that's the job of Taylor. She's the one who makes all the ridiculous fanfics about Freddy Fazbear's.” 

“Wait, about everything to do with Freddy Fazbear?” Mike shifted in his stance, “Even the guards?” 

As Mike stood there confused, Vincent cleared his throat, “How about you and Lauren go find Seb, Mimi and the others, then bring them to the employee lounge—we're going to have our family gathering there before the large party starts.” Vincent focused on the two kids before him, “I'll join you there in a few seconds, just need to catch Mike up on what's going on for the day and night shift today.” 

“Will do Uncle Vinc,” Lauren smiled giving him a small wave before taking Justin by the hand and dragging him away before he had another chance to ask more questions. 

Once the two were gone, Vincent and Mike began their trek to the security office. As they passed by the main room, they heard Alex deliver a stern warning to a few rambunctious kids. Poor Alex was stuck with the first day guard shift where the kids had the most energy, but Coral was taking the last shift before the sleepover so the rest of the guards could have their own party for Vincent—since she couldn't drink because of her pregnancy. 

Vincent gave Alex a pitying smile as they passed by, getting a slight roll of the eyes from the old guard. 

“So what's so urgent that you need to talk to me so badly and alone?” Vincent quarried as they moved into the back hallway, watching the shorter guard in front of him. 

“Well,” Mike let out a small laugh, itching his nose, “I wanted to talk to you about what happened Wednesday night,” Vincent cringed slightly at the mention of the events that had taken place a few nights ago. He knew which one Mike was referring to, but trying to decipher each event that happened was difficult. It was hard for him, since he had told Mike every emotion that had been going through his body during the night Bob died, as well as what happened before he had gotten to the Pizzeria with Keith. 

“Because we need to do something about,” Mike continued before pausing for a moment, “well all of that shit that's happened.” He glanced over his shoulder to Vincent as they both entered the office. 

Vincent stopped a few steps into the office, noticing a small black humanoid figure lying on part of the couch, the light cream mask with red painted cheeks and lips along with purple streaks from the bottom of its eyes leading down to the top of its mouth was staring up into the sky. He blinked a few times, looking over to Mike, “What's that?” 

“Huh?” Mike mumbled as he closed the door, “Oh, you mean that guy?” He chuckled, walking over next to Vinc, “Say hello to the Marionette, or as others call 'em the Puppet. That's the other thing I wanted to talk to you about.” 

“The Marionette?” Vincent stepped closer to the couch, watching the masked face, “Isn't that the one thing the bosses couldn't find besides the toy animatronics and Fredbear?” 

Beside him Mike snorted, rolling his eyes, “It wasn't from a lack of trying. They offered a lot of money for anyone who had him, but he's a bit too special to be put behind a display case. Back in the day of the old pizzeria that I worked at, my friend kept care of this guy secretly in the pizzeria. Once he, well...” Mike sighed, shaking his head, “Once he died I took over taking care of the Puppet.” 

“Taking care of?” Vincent hummed with a hint of amusement, “You make it sound like it's alive.” 

Smirking, Mike placed a hand on Vinc's shoulder, “That's the same exact thing I said when I first got him from Jeremy.” From there Mike walked over to the couch, picking up the Marionette, “But he proved me wrong on multiple occasions, finding him in different places in my house. I tried to put a bow on him, but apparently that wasn't want he wanted.” 

As Mike spoke Vincent had noticed a small purple bow laying on the ground in front of the couch, “Not fancy enough for him?” 

“Nah, reminded him too much of the Fazbear Murderer for his liking,” Mike chuckled, “Now, don't call me crazy-er,” he added in the last part before stopping a few inches away from Vincent, “But I think this dude wants to chill out with you from now on. I've had him for a good thirty years now, so I think he's sick of me and my puns. It's a pun-ishment he doesn't want to endure anymore.” 

Glancing to the Marionette, Vincent could have sworn he saw a dim white dot glowing in the eyes roll at the pun, “I really think he is tired of your puns.” Smiling a little, Vincent held out his arms to receive the Puppet, “Thanks.” 

Mike grinned, handing the Marionette over to Vincent gently, “Take good care of him, alright? I promised Jeremy that I would take good care of him.” 

“Of course,” Vincent nodded slowly, eyes glued onto the puppet, “I would not do anything else, or make you a liar.” 

Mike chuckled shaking his head, “Better not, but...” his expression took a serious turn, “We should discuss something about what to do with what happened Wednesday. We need to do something to stop the Springtrap from taking influence over you.” 

At the mention of the Springtrap a deep frown formed on Vincent's face, “I'm not sure how I'm going to get rid of that...” He shut his eyes tightly, breathing in deeply, “He can find any way into my mind, slipping in like a disease and takes over in an instant. I just... get this fuzzy feeling in my mind and then everything blacks out. I'm conscious of what I do, but I don't have control over anything I do, say or think. It's like...” Vinc went silent, not sure how to finish the words. 

“It's like I'm trapped inside a body I can't control, and no matter how hard I try, I just can't,” he finally spoke up again after a few moments of silence, “And I don't know how to stop it.” 

“You've got a real problem,” Mike frowned to him, picking up the tablet out of habit, “Though at least you don't have to worry about people who dislike you.” 

He tried to throw the joke at Vincent to cheer up the mood, only getting a deep frown from him, “That's the thing,” Vinc sighed, placing the Marionette onto the only spot on the desk where papers were not covering the surface, “The people who have died are people who I haven't gotten along with. If the police look into it, they are going to find that out, and come straight to me. After that it's all downhill from there.” 

Vincent leaned against the desk, mumbling something under his breath. Across from him, Mike placed the tablet back down, remembering that he wasn't on duty with a small chuckle, “Come on,” he snorted at the comment, “They couldn't figure out who the Purple Guy was and it's not like he was really that neat about it.” As he mentioned the nickname given to the Fazbear Murderer by the media, Vinc felt a rush of hot energy flow into his mind—the anger from the Springtrap had risen hearing that name. 

“Can you try not to use that nickname,” Vincent growled under his breath, “I don't exactly want to feel his anger on top of my own emotions!” After he snapped at the guard, moments later he exhaled deeply, holding his forehead in his hands, “Sorry,” Vinc glanced off to the side, slightly looking to the Puppet. 

As his blue eyes settled to staring at the Marionette, he felt the anger start to slither away, replaced with a warm calming wave of emotion. He opted to stare a few moments longer, feeling the weight that had encompassed him since the first day he started working at Freddy Fazbear's. It was nice to feel light again. 

“Vinc,” Mike's voice interrupted him, bringing him out of his trance. 

“What?” He blinked, turning to face the guard, “Sorry, I got absorbed into my thoughts.” 

The other smiled a little, sitting on top of the desk—not bothering to move the papers, just sat on top of them, “Well, I was trying to tell you about what that buddy there can do,” he pointed over to the Marionette on the desk, now sitting upright and next to the tablet, its painted face looking down at the screen, “but it seems you have experienced it. He can help like a shield or something. When I was upset when my mother passed, near by him I felt...” 

Mike trailed off, noticing that the Puppet was staring at the tablet, “Huh? What do ya see man?” Swiftly he swiped up the tablet, flicking it on with a tap of his finger. As it booted up, the room it was on brought a dreadful fear creeping over the facial expression of the guard. 

“W-what?” Vincent gave the other a corner of the mouth frown, walking over to his side, “What's going on?” He stood next to Mike glancing down to the screen that was flickering with static. 

Through the static and flickering he was able to identify the room as the Toy Room, but one thing caught his eye—something that was completely out of place. 

His blood went ice cold, feeling the same creeping feeling of fear fall over him as the man next to him felt earlier, “Is that...” he gulped, raising a hand to his chest in an attempt to calm his fast beating heart, “Is that the Springtrap?” 

Vinc gave a sideways glance to Mike, seeing his face twisted in the same fearful expression. 

He turned his full gaze back to the small screen, seeing the large rotting animatronic as it stood in the room, staring at the small model of the toy animatronics, specifically the Mangle. Then, as if it knew they were watching it, the silver eyes turned to the camera hanging in the corner from the ceiling. The eyes stared at them, blinking slowly once before the silver started to change into a bright purple. The permanent grin seemed to become even wider as it continued to watch them. 

In seconds Vinc felt the pressure return to his skull, the weight returning to weigh him down, “G-gah...” It was stronger that what it he had felt before, becoming extremely hard to ignore. He was close to screaming out in pain until he felt something climb onto his back and rest there. When he felt whatever it was rest on his back, the pressure wasted away into only a small push against his skull. 

Next to him he heard Mike chuckle a little, his blue eyes not turning away from the screen, “Told you he was alive.” 

Puzzled, Vinc glanced to his right shoulder, noticing the long black arms stripped with white resting on it, leading up to the painted face, “W-woah!” He was barely able to stop himself from letting out a loud yelp of surprise. Letting his heart calm to a more normal beat he glanced to Mike, “You sure you didn't put it there?” 

“Man, I have the tablet in my hands, that we've been staring at,” he quickly lifted the tablet a few inches farther into the air before continuing, “I couldn't have put him there without you noticing. Besides, I'm still not amazingly coordinated enough to do all that without you noticing. I would have broke a lot of stuff in the process.” Mike gave an attempted grin before fixating back onto the screen. Vincent followed suit shortly after a quick smile to the Marionette in a silent 'thank you.' 

As they both rested gaze on the screen, they came to a realization: the room was empty. Both of them inhaled sharply, Mike flipping through the camera screens until he found the animatronic. Strangely it was back in the Fright Room. 

“What is he doing back in the Fright Room?” Mike questioned aloud, then snorted a little, “Maybe he's putting himself back because he's being a bad boy.” 

Vinc shrugged a little, “I don't know... But it's probably not for that reason.” 

The guard frowned, before an idea popped into his head, “Wait!” He turned his full body to face Vinc, “You can hear the jerk inside the suit, right?” 

“Yeah...” Vincent gave Mike the deepest frown he could make, worried by the question, “But it's usually only when he wants me to hear it.” 

The guard stepped closer to him, determination in his blue eyes, “You might be able to do it yourself, to hear his thoughts.” 

“W-what?” Vincent stammered, eyes widening a little, “I'm hardly strong enough to stop him from making my mind go fuzzy, let alone stop him from taking over my mind or hearing his thoughts. How do you think I coul-” 

His words were broke off when Mike struck him across the face, “Ow!” Vincent reached up, gently touching the cheek that was struck, “What was that for?” 

“Vinc!”Mike glared at him for the first time ever, his voice serious, “You were able to resist his control and were able to control the Springtrap, plus have it off Keith in order to save me from certain doom—from either party! You're a pretty badass dude being able to do that.” 

Vinc felt a hint of embarrassment fall over him, his gaze averting from the other, “I...” He paused, rubbing the bicep of his right arm, “I could try it at least.” 

When the soft three fingered hand rest on his hand to stop the nervous action, Vinc closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. As he exhaled he narrowed in on the voice he heard so often in the depths of his mind. He listened for the voice, listening for the dark, low words. Finally, he got a trail, “I-I've got something.” Continuing with his eyes closed he followed the voice farther, until it was as loud as his own thoughts had once been. 

“The little brat,” the thoughts growled, “He must be helping the boy. How did that brat get here?” The voice paused, a quieter voice raising up in it's place, “What if Schmidt brought the brat, and gave him to the boy? It would mess up everything!" The voice paused, then growled, "Which is why he would do it.” Then, a deeper, lower growl rose, “Of course he did! Both that puppet and Schmidt have been a thorn in my side! One thorn has been eliminated, but two still remain!” As quickly as the rage grew, it died down, “But that doesn't matter quite as much at the moment. For now...” The purple glowing eyes turned to the camera, “I think it's time to have a bit of fun... Don't you think, Vincent?” A low laugh escaped before the animatronic turned to the vent cover, slightly tilting its head to the side. In a quick motion, the cover was ripped off and the Springtrap pushed it's way inside, “I'm coming for you little children.” 

“Fuck!” Mike's voice broken Vincent out of his focus, causing him to jump. 

“A-ah! What?!” His blue eyes turned to the other blue eyed man. Mike nearly dropped the tablet, looking around the ceiling and the walls of the room. 

“You were talking aloud with what I'm guessing was his thoughts. Plus, I also saw him rip the vent cover off like it was paper and go into the vent. Judging by the distaste he feels for the two of us,” he pointed between himself and the Marionette, “He's coming for us to make us un-alive.” 

“Are there cameras in the vents?” Vincent picked up the tablet himself, flicking through the cameras, trying to figure if there was a second layer. 

Mike nearby huffed, “You're the manager, you should know if there is cameras there or not.” 

“They barely had the cameras functioning when I was looking at them weeks ago,” Vincent breathed, his fingers shaking. 

Mike glanced to him, getting himself onto the couch, “What about Wednesday night? You were playing night guard that night.” 

“I can't remember much of Wednesday night!” Vinc's words showed bitter anger, but there was only hints of pure panic in his tone, “There's no vent cameras!” He tossed the tablet onto the table only a few inches down in frustration, "Why do we not have vent cameras?" 

"Probably because they didn't expect anything to be crawling around in there," Mike joked. 

"Tim and Jean wanted to make the place as close to the older facilities as possible," Vincent thought aloud, glancing towards the single door into the security room, "I'm surprised they didn't. We're sitting ducks in here..." 

Mike, on the other hand, had gotten off the couch and grabbed one side of it, pushing it in front of the only vent leading into the room, “It's alright. He can't get in here easily: I blocked the vent.” 

They stood there in silence, only their breaths making a sound in the silence. Vincent glanced to the Marionette on his back, worried about what would happen since it was protecting him from the Springtrap's influence. What would the nightmare do to it? It was obvious the Springtrap disliked the puppet, and if it really was alive, the results of the animatronic getting into the room would be deadly for all three of them. 

When no sounds came, Vinc felt another wave of creeping fear, “What if he wasn't coming for us...” As the realization hit him, another fear rose up, “Oh no! He's going after the kids!” 

Without another word, Vincent bolted out of the security office, shortly followed by Mike, “Well shit!”


	26. Terrifying Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vincent and Mike rush in to save Vinc's family, only to find that the Springtrap hadn't killed them, but soon things get too far out of hands...

It was terrifying,to think that the five kids that had came into the pizzeria to see their uncle and celebrate his birthday could be cold lifeless corpses in a matter of moments, or they could be completely fine—a sick twisted version of Schrodinger's cat. 

The very thought brought a deep panic into Vinc, nearly chocking out his logical thought process. He had to save them. 

Lucky for Vincent and Mike the security office was not too far from the employee lounge, so it was just a quick dash between the two. 

Vinc burst into the room, half expecting to see the already mutilated corpses of what would be left of the children. 

Instead he was met with Justin beaming up at the rotting animatronic as it stood there unmoving, the rest gazing from a distance, “Woah, that's a terrifying as they said it was! That fake flesh inside looks so real!” 

Vinc had to stop himself from snapping at the kid—not out of anger, but more from worry. At any moment it could spring to life and end things quickly. 

Then the eyes turned to him, all living sets watching him. Sebastian gave a weary smile to Vincent, walking over to his side, “Uncle Vinc, I didn't know it was able to move around,” the child returned his gaze to the animatronic, “It was just suddenly in the room with us. I'm a little worried, but Taylor doesn't think it's anything. There's a reason it is behind that special case, right?” 

“Yeah,” Vincent protectively placed an arm around Seb before beckoning Mimi over as well, “It's not a good thing that it's out somehow.” 

It still puzzled him, how it got out of the case. The only people with keys would never release it, would they? He carefully eyed the animatronic as Mimi came over to him, stopping at his free side, giving him a slightly worried smile. In mirror to his previous action he put an arm around Mimi looking to the other kids in the room, “Lauren, Kate, Justin, Taylor, Amanda,” he listed their names, all five kids looking to him, Justin barely able to pull his gaze away, “Get away from that animatronic, now.” 

The four girls whined a little but quieted down when Vinc shot them a stern glare, taking their positions either next to him or behind him. Justin, on the other hand continued to stand in front of the Springtrap, almost mesmerized by it. Vinc gritted his teeth, wanting to go grab the kid,but he also had to protect the other kids, and the Marionette—it was the only reason why he wasn't going to be the one who would hunt his own family down. 

Hissing under his breath, he tried to snap Justin out of it, “Justin! Get over here now!” 

Behind him, he heard Taylor mumble, “I don't get why it's so important to get away from the animatronic... it's not like it's alive or anything.” She scoffed, glancing to the side, “It's not smart enough to do anything besides stumble around, crawl through vents and make people uncomfortable as it stares at them.” 

Mimi glanced up to her caretaker, being the first to notice the Marionette clinging onto his back, “What's that?” She tilted her head to the side, gently reaching up and touching the leg of the puppet, “How's it keeping up there?” Her question went unanswered. 

Though, as she stared at the painted face, the puppet's head turned to look at her, watching her for a moment. She smiled back to it, leaning closer towards her caretaker. 

“We-welcome to Fazbear's Fri-ight,” a low menacing voice rose from the depths of the animatronic, “Where the fears are more real than you can i-imagine, where the horrifying and gruesome past of Faz-Fazbear Entertainment will become your experience.” 

Vincent frowned, moving his body between the children near him and the Springtrap; was it talking aloud or did it just want to mess with his mind? 

“What horrors will await you within the co-confines of these walls? Will you be able to hide from **me** , to buy your time before **I find you**? **We shall see** ,” The low voice continued, the jaw slightly moving as the words flowed out. On the occasion the head would twitch side to side with a short burst of static, the broken fingers twitching once or twice, flexing in a motion as if it was grabbing onto something. 

_This has to be aloud_ , Vincent frowned, _but how can that be? The voice box was beyond repair, even for Demetri, I was there for all the choice words he used. Plus, the programming for Fazbear's Fright was never completed according to the owners_. Yet, somehow, these words were echoing through the room. 

“Oh shit, it's talking,” Mike suddenly appeared back into Vincent's focus, stepping up next to him in a protective stance, “I thought Dr. Paine couldn't get that voice box fixed because of all the rotted flesh.” 

_Yeah_ , Vincent cringed, _it's talking aloud_. 

He gave a quick shake of his head to Mike before trying again with Justin, “Justin!” He snapped at him this time with a hint of anger and authority, “Get over here right now.” 

“Alright, alright,” Justin sighed defeated, turning his back to the Springtrap. 

The voice rose again, this time much more dangerous that before, “Let's begin chi-children. You have thirty seconds to hide before I start the hunt and **come find you**.” 

“That's some good programming,” Justin awed as he went behind Vinc, still staring widely at the Springtrap, “How did they get such good coding in that old thing?” 

Mike grumbled under his breath, “It's not programming there kid.” 

“You are not running children?” the voice mused, the glitch within the voice fading as if it never happened, the silver eyes glimmering with a dark lust, “Do you wish to bring about your suffering quickly?” The large animatronic head titled to the side slightly, slowly opening its jaw as a low groan escaped, “Or do you fell protected behind your little uncle, that he will protect you from the horrors that await you? Or perhaps that idiot Schmidt will save you...” 

“I don't think that is something programmed in...” Mimi frowned, gripping the pant leg of her caretaker, glancing up to him with worry. 

Vincent nodded slowly, increasing his grip on her and Seb's shoulders, “That's definitely not. Stay behind us.” His eyes narrowed, glaring towards the animatronic. 

The action of Vincent brought a low laugh out of the thing, the heavy foot taking a pace forward, “Programming is such a bore: no freedom, no choice. Now I have my freedom, or I would...” The voice hissed, silver eyes turning to the puppet upon Vinc's back, “If that little **BRAT would stop getting in my way**!” 

By now the voice has raised with anger and bitter hate, the animatronic standing next to the circular table in the center of the room. In a fit of rage the table was flung across the room, smashing into the wall, “ **Do you feel safe little children**?” The voice cooed, trying to mask the rage with a low insane laugh, “ **Do you feel comforted around Vincent**?” 

“I do,” Mimi squeaked out, hiding herself a few inches behind Vincent. Seb silently nodded in agreement, pulling himself closer to Vinc's leg. 

Another low laugh rose up, this one very sinister and menacing, “ **Would you feel safe around a man whose killed in cold blood, and maimed two children, leaving their bodies to rot in the darkness... alone?** ” 

“That was your doing, asshole!” Mike hissed, taking a step forward, “You were the one who was doing that shit!” Beside them the five other kids began to become uneasy some shifting uncomfortably, why a few eyes widened with a mix of shock and fear. 

Lauren was the first to speak up, breaking the tense silence, “I-is that true uncle Vinc? Did you really kill those people?” 

Vincent cringed at the question, feeling a heavy pain fall over him. He never thought he would be asked such a question, but here he was, having to debate what to say; he had to be careful with what he said, because if he didn't say it correctly, he could end up in a horrible situation. 

“How could you ask that?” Justin snapped at Lauren, crossing his arms over his chest, “Of course he didn't! Vincent wouldn't kill somebody, and even if he did, he would have a really good reason to do so.” 

He had to admire Justin for his loyalty, but Vincent didn't want him to be defending him when he was perfectly capable of it himself. He had to tell them; no more lies and dancing around the truth. 

The only thing that scared about the truth him was losing them all because of the single decision he made five years ago, to touch the animatronic suit laying in Fazbear's Fright. 

“It's true,” Vincent finally spilled it out, letting out a deep sigh, “Three people are dead because of my hands.” Tightening his hands into fists, he closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath before continuing, “But I was not in control of my body.” 

“Are you serious?!” Amanda's voice rose up in panic, her eyes wide with terror, “You killed people?! And you're saying you weren't in control of yourself! That is the biggest bunch of bull shit I've ever heard!” 

The girl glanced to the others, then her eyes fell on Mimi and Seb. Something inside him knew what she was going to do, but he didn't react quick enough. 

Taylor quickly swiped up Mimi why Amanda took away Sebastian, backing themselves away as well as pushing Lauren, Kate and Justin back. 

Taylor shot a venomous glare towards Vinc, holding Mimi close to her, “How could you; think you were going to not tell anybody about this, that you were going to continue raising these two without telling them that your a murderer?” 

Sebastian opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by Taylor, “We need to tell the police!” 

“Calm the fuck down!” Mike snapped at the teenagers, his struggle not to slap the girl visible on his expression, “You really think Vincent would kill somebody? You've known him for longer than I have—and I'm not the best judge of character—but I know he would never kill somebody, even if they gave him a really good reason! Guy can't even cuss when he's pissed off!” 

“That doesn't matter!” Amanda retorted loudly to Mike, taking a challenging step forward, “There's no telling if he'll escalate into killing those he cares for! He could be a sociopath!” 

“A sociopath doesn't have emotions!” Mike sneered, “A psychopath is the one that has no care for people and is more known for killing people!” 

“What difference does it make?!” 

“A lot! Because he,” Mike pointed over to Vincent, “fits neither of those categories! So calm the fuck down and let's deal with the big decaying asshole who wants to kill everyone in this facility!” 

“We are not going on a different subject!” Taylor butted into the argument, raising the tension even further, “We have to focus on the safety of us and these two kids! And they are not safe around him!” 

“Oh,” Mike let out a snide chuckle, shaking his head, “That asshole is a much bigger problem than the man who just fucking loves his family!” 

As the three continued to bicker and fight, Vincent felt uneasy, his eyes darting between the group and the Springtrap, watching the animatronic eyes, each time his gaze flicked over those silver eyes were on him. They never left him. 

Then, in a matter of moments he felt light-headed and exposed, hardly noticing that somebody had bumped into him. 

It took him a few minutes to register what was going on, his vision darkening. The whole room began to drain of color, being replaced only by shades of purple. Vinc tried to rub the purple from his sight, but each time he would reopen them the purple would be thicker. After two tries he gave up, letting it sink in what happened. 

_The Marionette!_ He gasped, reaching behind him, touching the back of his shoulder, where only empty space met his touch, _Oh no..._

That was why he was feeling so strange. His blue eyes darted around the room, eventually finding that amid the panic and yelling, Kate had freaked out, knocking into her uncle which then brought the puppet down. She had picked up the thing, bringing it back over to her and the others. 

When Mike realized the change as well, he went an even paler shade, “Kate...” he slowly let the words out, trying to keep his voice calm, “Give that back to Vincent...” 

She gazed at the guard with wide scared eyes, before shaking her head no, hugging onto the Marionette tightly. Slowly the guard approached her, a hand held out, trying to coax her into giving it up. 

In the process, Vincent started to drift, feeling his mind slipping into the unwanted, but quickly becoming familiar state of unconsciousness. He tried to keep himself awake, slapping himself in the face a few time, but to no avail. 

Quickly as it came, his vision became completely black, all of his senses and emotions falling away into the nothingness. 

“Kate, your uncle really needs that guy,” Mike's voice was heavy with worry, a small hint of panic in it, “If he doesn't have it, he's going to lose the fight.” 

As if he said the right words, Kate hesitantly handed the puppet over to the night guard, her gaze averted. 

“Thanks,” Mike smiled to her, before turning back around, “Let's get you back on Vi-” his words were cut off as his blue eyes fell onto Vinc, “Shit...” 

Vincent stood perfectly still, his blue eyes swallowed by the violet purple glow. He blinked his eyes slowly, raising his head so he was staring directly into the group of kids. 

“Too little,” the low voice cooed as it flowed from Vincent's lips, the purple glowing eyes half lidded, “Too late.” As he finished his words a dark sadistic grin spread onto his lips, the Springtrap looming over the possessed man. 

“What's going on?” Lauren whimpered, taking a step back, “What's wrong with uncle Vincent?” She glanced to the others then to Mike, who responded to her with a deep frown. 

Vincent hummed, taking a step forward, “Little Uncle Vincent is taking a small break right now to rest up,” As he took another step forward, the Springtrap leaned forward, its jaw opening with a low groan, “But don't worry little children, I'll take good care of you why he's resting...” 

He stopped, only a few feet away from them, letting out a low sinister chuckle, “He'll be seeing all of this as I spill your blood across the floor, as I rip and tear your flesh from your bones...” 

“Vincent...” Mimi held back a sob, wiggling out of the grip of Taylor before running up to him, “Vincent! Please you have to fight whatever is happening! You can't let it kill us!” Her eyes began to brim with tears, “Please!” 

She tried to hug onto his leg, but was quickly stopped by Mike who picked her up hissing under his breath, “Kid, that is not a smart thing to do. Right now, I don't think we can reach Vincent. What we need to do is get you guys out of here as well as the rest of the kids. You all,” he put Mimi down between himself and the door, herding the other kids into a similar position, “Need to get out of here. Get Damien and the other guards here, tell them that Springtrap is loose. They'll know what to do.” 

“What about you?” Taylor frowned, but before she could get an answer she was pushed out of the room along with the other kids. Behind them the door slammed shut and the sound of a lock rung out. 

“We need to do what he said,” Seb peeped out, his face covered with streams of tears, “We need to get the other guards and get out.” 

“We can't leave them alone!” Kate turned to her brother, “We can't just sit idly by as who know what happens to uncle Vinc!” 

“But we won't be much help if we get killed!” Justin finally spoke up for the first time since things had gone to complete shit, “If we stay here we'll just be another target for that thing to get. And even if you believe it's Vincent or not,” he shot a quick glare at Amanda and Taylor, “We'd only make things worse. I'm with Sebastian on this: we do what Mr. Schmidt wanted.” 

He gave a small reassuring smile to Seb, who returned the gesture. 

“Fine,” Kate sighed, turning towards the main room, “Then let's find ourselves a security guard.” 

They all turned to leave when a voice behind them rose, “What do you need a security guard for?” All their attention returned to behind them, seeing Adam standing in the doorway of the security office, “That's a lot of noises coming from the employee lounge.” The guard walked over to the group, worry dancing in his eyes, “What's going on?” 

“Springtrap's loose,” Justin repeated the words the night guard had told them to say, and in an instant, Adam's eyes went wide. 

Quickly he relaxed his expression, returning to his calm demeanor, “Alright. Come with me,” he waved for them to follow as he snaked through the group heading into the main room. 

Swiping up his walkie-talkie he pressed a button and held it up to his mouth, speaking softly, “We've got a code 9400D3. We need to evacuate the facility until we can get it under control.” 

“Shit,” an older voice came out from the speaker followed by a heavy sigh, “Alright then. Damien, Coral. You two work on getting everyone out of the facility, which includes the youngins there you have with you Adam. As for you and Morgan, you're with me to deal with this problem.” 

“Will do,” Coral's voice came up, “You kids meet me at the stage, the others will make sure everything else is fine.” The other two guards voiced their agreements then they began their work. 

“Listen up everyone,” Damien's voice came out loud as he stood up on the stage, of course after he apologized to Freddy and his gang for interrupting them, “We've got an emergency that must cause us to close up for a little. Because it is a danger to the safety of the children we would like to ask you to leave and wait until we give the all clear. It is nothing that will cause too much of a problem but it is procedure to evacuate the building. Please head towards the front exits in an orderly fashion.” 

People began to whisper to each other, children were getting upset but not a single person headed to the front doors. 

Damien let out a heavy sigh, opening his mouth again to talk, but it was a large brown paw held up that stopped him, “I'll take it from here Mr. Blanche.” The guard nodded to the animatronic bear before stepping aside. 

Freddy, doing the equivalent of clearing his throat, started to get the attention of all the kids, “Hey kids,” the bear's voice was friendly with a hint of stern authority in it, “We need you and your parents to leave for a little why we get some things fixed up! It's going to be a super surprise so we don't want the secret to get out. We're not going anywhere so when things are back up we'll have the surprise ready!” 

As if those were the magical words—or more the fact that Freddy was the one who said them—the kids started to urge their parents out, and within a few minutes the place was empty. 

Freddy nodded in satisfaction before turning to the guard, “What is going on Mr. Blanche? Is it something we should be concerned with or can help out? If it really is something that could cause harm to the children we want to assist in any way possible to resolve it.” 

“It's nothing we can't handle,” Damien replied, watching as Coral took out Sebastian and the other kids through the main doors, “Just one of the displays got loose so we have to get it back in somehow.” 

“You mean,” Bonnie piped in, his ears slightly drooping, “Springtrap is free?” 

Next to the bunny, Chica held her cupcake close to her chest, a deep look of worry on her face. 

Damien sighed, shaking his head, “Yeah, it's loose. But we'll be getting it back in soon, so don't worry.” He smiled to Bonnie, patting the rabbit on the head, “I need to go help out my fiancee with taking care of those kids. Be good,” he felt silly saying that to machines, but these guys had a real personality—they might try to help out which could be an advantage or a hindrance. 

As the guard left to join his love, Bonnie glanced to Freddy, lowing his mechanical voice, “We should do something Freddy. He could hurt more children, and we can't have that.” 

“I know,” Freddy nodded slowly, tapping the brown finger against his microphone in a thoughtful manner, “We have to be careful though. If we cause problems and kinks in their plan it could end badly.” 

“Yeah, but I don't want to stand here doing nothing why that guy hurts more people,” Bonnie huffed, crossing his purple arms over his chest, seeing that Chica nodded in agreement. 

Freddy, defeated, let out a heavy sigh, “Fine,” he rolled his eyes as both Chica and Bonnie perked up, “but we have to be careful. We may have caused this to happen once, but we need to find a way to destroy him fully, to make sure he can't linger in that suit anymore.” Turning towards the back hallway, Freddy pulled off his hat and dusted it off before replacing it back on his head, “Come on everybody, we're going to kill this fucker for good.”


	27. Operation: Guards to the Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the guards to step in and show their stuff! Alex, Adam and Morgan take their moment in the spotlight to assist Mike in dealing with the possessed man. They must subdue and keep an eye on the fully possessed Vincent without hurting him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I've updated this one huh? I took a break from writing this due to not having too much time to work on it, and since most of my inspiration to write this had came from waiting for the bus to go to and from college. This is the last full chapter I have written up to now, and I'll be trying to get back to the updating every Friday, or every other Friday depending. I've also got two other Five Nights at Freddy's stories going on my AO3 profile, which will be updated as well! If you're interested in a story focusing on the guards (currently Mike) or one based on FNAF World, check them out on my profile!

“Come on,” Mike sneered slightly, keeping the Marionette close to him, “Haven't you caused enough problems in people's lives?” His blue eyes were focused on the Springtrap rather than Vincent, “Leave the kid alone.” 

“Oh Schmidt...” Vincent purred with the low voice, “You don't get it do you?” He shook his head with a dark grin spreading on his lips, “You never did get it, just like the rest of them, and now you don't get this.” 

Vinc spread out his arms in sync with the Springtrap as he spoke up again, “You must think low of me for choosing a boy with such hate in his life to be my,” he paused, looking for the proper word to place there, “let's just call it 'friend.'” 

“Oh that's far from being a friend,” Mike hissed through clenched teeth, “You're fucking possessing the poor kid and making him kill!” 

"It's more than just that Schmidt," Vincent mocked, both him and Springtrap tilting their heads to the side, "He is my key to freedom." 

The night guard growled right before the lock on the door unlatched. Alex, Adam and Morgan stepped in, stopping next to Mike. 

“Vincent?” Alex rose an eyebrow, taking a step forward, “What are you doing? I thought you hated that damned animatronic?” Mike shook his head to the old head guard. 

“Hmmm, hello there Alexander,” Vincent hummed, tilting his head to the side, “Welcome to the party...” His voice became bitter, the purple glowing eyes narrowing, “I guess since your friends decided to ruin my fun on this fright filled night, I'll adapt my plans.” 

“Wait a second,” Alex's eyes widened, taking a step back at the voice, “I know that voice, I know who that belonged to! The police department arrested a man a while after those kids went missing and were declared dead, but there wasn't enough evidence to convict him.” When the old guard had mentioned the event, it donned on Mike as well. 

The night guard silently mouthed 'holy shit' before turning to the Springtrap and Vincent, “No fucking way. You're-” He was cut short by the loud shriek of the Springtrap, his words dropping off. 

“Yes, yes,” Vincent sneered, rolling his eyes, “You have an idea of who I was before my demise, congratulations, but none of that matters now.” The sneer was quickly replaced by a wide toothy grin, Vincent leaned his head back, the back of his hair brushing against the old rotten flesh resting inside the Springtrap's chest cavity, "That was the past, and now I'm living a new future: free." 

“We need to do something to help Vincent,” Mike took a quick glance to the three other guards, “He's not in control of himself; he's being controlled by the spirit in the Springtrap.” 

The night guard got a devious grin, lowering his voice so only the three others could hear him, “I'm going to distract one of them and get them out of the room. If it's Vincent who follows me I need you guys to take care of Springtrap. If it's the rotten bastard who follows me, then try to subdue Vincent without hurting him badly. He's still that innocent boy beneath that bastard's control.” 

“Just be careful,” Adam frowned, taking a glance to the Springtrap, “That thing is dangerous.” Mike, being himself, waved off the concern. 

Breaking the small huddle, Mike turned to face the possessed man and the decaying animatronic, quickly putting the Marionette onto one of the chair sitting to the side, “Hey,” his normal grin was plastered on his face, pausing in his words. Vincent rose an eyebrow with his grin turning into a sneer. When he had the full attention of the other Mike slowly let the two words come out, “Purple Guy.” 

It only took a matter of seconds before the Springtrap let out a screech that was much louder than the one before, the sound echoing through the whole facility. Quickly, Mike bolted out of the door, the three other guards pushing themselves to the sides as Springtrap streaked after the black haired guard. They were left with Vincent. 

“Alright Vincent,” Alex spoke up first, taking a step towards the young man only after closing the door behind the animatronic, “I know you can hear me where ever you are in there. You need to stop this from happening.” He took another step forward, Adam and Morgan close behind, their hands resting on their concealed weapons. 

“Your attempts are foolish old man,” Vincent snorted, eyeing all three of them closely, “Little Vincent is sleeping peacefully right now. It would be rude to wake him up.” He took a step forward towards the three, giving them a challenging glare, “Don't wake the baby...” 

Morgan, on the left of Alex, took a quick few steps in front of the others, closer to Vincent, “Come on Vinc, are you going to let that old man take control of you? That's pretty lame you know?” 

“Oh going to insult him now?” Vincent chuckled, raising an eyebrow, “Now that is quite rude to say to the one you are trying to help out.” He finished his words right before Morgan launched himself at the other, tackling him to the ground. 

“Get off of me!” Vincent hissed barely having time to react before his back collided with the ground. He sneered, striking out with his fist, catching Morgan in the left eye, but the guard didn't move or loosen his hold on him. 

Morgan continued to hold Vincent down as Alex and Adam came over in quick bounds. The two guards looked down to Vincent who was struggling under Morgan's hold, hissing and shooting venomous threats at them. 

“We need to tie him up or something,” Adam sighed, frowning at the sight of the manager who originally had such a calm demeanor, “So he can't get free and without hurting him.” Alex beside him nodded, the old eyes scanning the room for something. 

He let out a quiet _ah_ as he walked over to one of the cabinets in the back of the room. Seconds later after a moment of rummaging around in the bottom drawer of the cabinet closest to the back door, Alex returned with a few bundles of rope. He snorted at the strange look he got from Adam before explaining, “Store some rope in there just in case we have to section off something, since little kids can easily get through caution tape.” 

Adam shrugged, not focused on inquiring about more deals since they had another predicament to take care of at the time. Slowly, Adam—being the biggest and strongest out of the three of them—picked up Vincent by the collar of his dress shirt, making sure at least one of them had an eye on his arms. 

Predictably, once Vincent was on his feet, he tried to lung at the nearest guard, arms out ready to latch onto anything they could hold. Unlucky for him Adam was ready, quickly grabbing the manager's wrists, holding them tightly. He pressed them together with some restraint as the other struggled in his grip, both trying to get his arms free as well as bring them forward to try to chock the life out of the guard. 

Alex relieved him from the struggle, quickly tying one of the lengths of rope around Vincent's wrists above where they were being held. Once the wrists were tied Adam let go of them, the possessed man taking the opportunity to headbutt him square in the chest. 

The sheer force of the blow knocked Adam back, taking the breath out of him and leaving him gasping for air. When his breath returned, he glanced back to see Alex and Morgan struggling to hold the man still. 

Eventually, with the help of Adam, they forced Vincent down onto a chair, tying the bound hands to the back of the chair as well as his legs. For extra precautions they took one long length of rope and tied it around him, right below his rib cage. It seemed excessive to tie him up so tightly, but they couldn't take any chances, especially with the murderous glint in his eyes. 

“Now what?” Morgan let out a heavy sigh in an attempt to catch his breath, “Should we go try to help out Mike?” Adam silently thought for a moment, debating on if they should that. One person could probably look after the manager, and Mike could probably use the help with the Springtrap. On the other hand, if something were to happen with Vincent, that he got free somehow, one of them wouldn't be able to keep him held up for long: Alex was big but his age was catching up to him, and Morgan was much shorter than the towering manager. As for Adam himself, the manager was much swifter than him and could easily and quickly give him the slip. 

“We need to at least have two people here watching him,” Alex eyed Vincent as he talked, “Schmidt is smart but he's going to run out of luck really soon. Someone needs to help him, but we can't put the people here at risk as well.” 

All three's attention was pulled away when they heard a loud crash from the main room, followed by a screech. Unlike the others they had heard, this screech was not from Springtrap. 

“Was that Foxy?” Morgan questioned with a rose eyebrow, glancing towards the main room, “I think that was Foxy.” Alex nodded slowly in agreement why Adam stared for a moment towards the door, before returning his focus to Vincent. 

“I think that old guard may have help after all,” Alex chuckled, returning his own gaze to Vincent, “He'll be fine, let's just make sure to do our part and keep this boy out of trouble.” The younger guards nodded in agreement with his words. Letting out a sigh, the old guard brought a chair over, sitting down on it so he was facing the bound up man. 

“You're wasting your time,” Vincent cooed, his head drooped down, but a sinister grin was painted on his face, “You think you fools can stop me? You couldn't even stop me in life! And like hell you can stop me in death! Nothing can stop me,” He sneered, his gaze shoot up so he was staring directly into Alex's eyes. The once calm blue eyes were now a burning purple, hazed with hate and a murderous glint. He let out a low laugh, tilting his head to the side, “I'm invincible, immortal. You can't stop me!” 

“Well we can sure as hell try,” Alex grunted, not breaking the gaze with Vincent, “We'll be trying to stop you to the very last breath we take.” Adam gave a firm nod to the old guard, Morgan mimicking the sentiment. 

They took an oath when they took the job of being a security guard to protect the people within the facility, to protect everyone from what could bring danger to them. This, was a danger, and they would stop at nearly nothing to prevent it from hurting people, especially the children. 

A low maniacal laugh escaped Vincent, his eyes never blinking or moving from Alex's gaze, “Are you willing to do whatever it takes to stop the danger from hurting the kids?” When the question didn't cause the old guard's gaze to change, he added in a few more words, low and mocking, “Even if it means killing Vincent?” 

Those words, those six words caused Alex's gaze to break away, his eyes trailing to the floor. In response Vincent let out a loud uproar, throwing his head back as he laughed insanely, “As I thought!” He snapped his gaze back to Alex, an insane grin on his face, “You can't do anything to save them! You can't bring yourself to kill an innocent person! You can't kill him! **YOU CAN'T!** ” 

“Shut up!” Alex snapped, and in an uncontrolled quick moment he struck out, hitting Vincent square on the jaw. He recoiled a little only after the action had been done, hearing Adam let out something like a squeak of surprise. The punch wasn't too powerful, but it was strong enough that it would leave a dark bruise on Vincent's jawline. 

Vincent, however, didn't seem to screech out in pain, in fact, the grin on his face widened, letting out a low hum, “Hmmmm, that felt wonderful you know?” He let out a low laugh, rolling his neck, “It's been so long since I've felt anything,” His words picked up with excitement. If he was capable of it at the moment he would have brought his hand up to touch the tender jawline, instead he switched from rolling his neck to slightly bobbing his head side to side. 

Vinc purred from the throbbing, “This is such a tiny little pain compared to the last thing I felt, but it's so wonderful. To feel it all again...” His grin twisted into a sick smirk as he watched the faces of the two younger guards turn to one of disgust and shock, “Oh, are the little children scared to hear about pain? Or how I enjoy the sensation?” Throwing his head back once again he let out a loud maniacal laugh, “Such pitiful little children! Once I am finished getting rid of that fool Schmidt, I'll be bringing back the Springtrap to incapacitate you...” He trailed off for a moment, getting lost in a memory, before returning back to the present, “I want to kill you with these hands, to feel your blood trickle between my fingers, to feel the force that I use to smash in your pathetic skulls and rip through all your muscles to get to your bones!” 

“Can we please get him to be quiet?” Morgan whined, starting to get uncomfortable by the insane, violent ramblings of the possessed man, “I'm not sure how much more of his 'ways to kill you' rant I can take. I don't want to hurt Vincent, but I'm going to lose my cool if he continues this way.” 

“Afraid little child?” Vincent chuckled, tilting his head to the side, craning his neck so his purple eyes were staring at Morgan, “Do you not like hearing about the ways I can gut you?” He hummed, turning his eyes back to the door leading out into the main room, “You won't have to listen for too much longer, for soon you will feel it...” His words trailed off before his eyes narrowed in a sudden anger. 

Adam and Alex both noticed the change, following the gaze of the man. When they reached the end, they both saw the Marionette, sitting upright on top of the sideways table that had been earlier thrown across the room. It's empty black eyes seemed to stare at the tied up man, the long slender arms resting at it's sides, as if it was casually holding onto the edge of the table. Alex glanced to Adam confused, whom returned the glance with a small shrug. 

“I think you're scared,” Morgan suddenly became a little smug, standing so he was right next to Vincent, “By that thing over there.” He pointed over to the Marionette, taking his eyes off the manger. Hissing, the man reared back, then went for the extended finger. 

Morgan let out a shriek of pain as he tried to pull his finger back, but in doing so he made the bite even worse, breaking the skin. After prying his finger away, he observed the damage with a whimper, seeing the bits of blood trickle out of the wound, “Shit...” Morgan hissed between clenched teeth, “Son of a...” His eyes rose up to meet the other two who questioningly looked at him, “Bastard bit me!” He pointed another finger accusingly at Vincent. 

This action, of course, was met with another bite to the appendage. Morgan screamed again, this time quickly yanking away his finger before anymore pressure could be added. Taking a few steps back the young guard decided to keep the distance, not wanting anymore of his fingers to get chomped. Two of his ten fingers were bleeding, but his two favorite fingers to give jerks were still in working order. 

Alex calmly walked over, taking Morgan's hands into his own, examining them over, “Looks like he got you pretty bad.” The old guard hummed, then pulled out two bandages from his pocket. He swiftly pulled them out of their wrappings one at a time and wrapped them around the other guard's wounded fingers, “Now don't go poking those other fingers around him, alright? You don't want to lose too much blood. We'll also have to get it disinfected later.” 

“Fine,” Morgan huffed, bringing his hands to his body protectively, glancing over to Vincent. The tied up manager gave a snide smirk to him. 

"Cry little child," he mused, "Let me see your tears and revel in your agony." 

The short guard sneered a little, before he recalled something before the pain had begun, dismissing the words of the possessed man, “Wait, he doesn't seem to like that marionette...” Morgan more spoke aloud in thought, walking over to the white faced puppet, “Maybe...” He slowly picked up the puppet, “Maybe this thing can help.” 

“What makes you think that?” Adam sighed, shaking his head at the idea, “It's just a puppet.” His attention turned to Vincent when he made something that sounded like a snort and a growl combined. 

The possessed man's eyes were focused on the black and white marionette, narrowed in a bitter hate, “If only that thing was 'just a puppet,'” he growled low enough that even Alex who was still near by him had to strain to hear, “It's more than that. A thorn in my side for years...” 

“Okay so it may help,” Adam hummed after the response from Vincent. He watched as Morgan came over with the Marionette, stopping a few inches away from the tied up manager. The shorter guard hovered the Puppet near Vinc's face, all three noticing that the man was struggling to move away from it. As Morgan brought it closer, Vincent fell back in the chair, hissing as his back collided with the ground. 

“Do you enjoy dangling that thing like a live grenade?” Vinc hissed low, still struggling to get out of his captive state. He let out a snort of amusement, feeling his hand starting to come loose, “How about you let it go and watch the place go up in flames?” 

“I'm doing this for your own good,” Morgan snapped back at him, before dropping the Marionette on top of Vincent. 

At first the guard screeched out like an angered predator, struggling even more to get his arms free, but soon it died down, his actions becoming less violent and slower. Finally, after what felt like half an hour or more, Vincent's body had settled into a calm, sleep like state, his eyes closed and his chest slowly rising and falling. 

The Marionette sat on his chest, arms draped over the width of his torso, the head resting sideways as his lugs expanded and contracted with each breath. It made them look so peaceful despite the rage and insanity the manager had displayed earlier. 

“Shit,” Adam breathed, watching as Alex leaned down to check on the manager. The old guard gently opened the manager's eyes, then let out a hum before standing up again. 

“He seems to be fine now,” Alex shook his head as he sighed, “His eyes seem to be normal again.” He sneered slightly, keeping an eye on the Marionette, “Guess that bastard really was not very fond of that puppet,” the old eyes turned to the exit, Adam and Morgan stepping up beside him, “Let's just hope Mike's doing alright.” 

“He should be fine,” Morgan exhaled deeply, slouching his shoulders as he did so, “He's got help like you said before.” 

“You...” He quiet voice slipped from Vincent's lips, “You can't save him...” As he finished, the loud scream echoed from the main room, both mechanical and human.


	28. Operation: Animatronic Showdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the guards deal with Vincent, Mike has his hands full dealing with the Springtrap, but he's not alone either...

Mike bolted out of the room, knowing by the terrifying screech that he got the rotting bastard. _Better than having to deal with that asshole possessing my friend_ , Mike bitterly thought to himself as he darted into the main room, hearing the heavy footsteps thundering behind him. 

He entered the main room, turning behind a few tables to give him some obstacles between him and Springtrap. 

Mike huffed, pressing one hand against his chest, “That should give me some time...” He trailed off as the Springtrap came into view, only seconds later, it was barreling through the tables. 

“Shit, shit, shit!” Mike nearly screamed as the large animatronic hand barely missed his neck as he ducked down. Quickly he jumped over a few more tables, bringing himself closer to the stage, “Come on man,” he kept a close eye on the movements of the Springtrap as he hoisted himself up onto the stage, “We used to be friends, before well.. Ya know. You kind of got smashed up into that suit.” He frowned, watching at the animatronic tossed one of the tables aside, “Doesn't that mean anything?” 

“Friends...?” The word came out slowly as if it was struggling to say the word, the silver eyes narrowing, “You think we were friends?” The Springtrap let out a snort, approaching the guard much slower now, “I gave no care for you or anyone else. You were just other players who would get in my way... Just like Fitzgerald did.” 

“W-what?!” Mike's eyes widened at the mention of the name, quickly turning into a glare, “You! You were the one who killed Jerbear!” In a moment of rage, Mike launched himself at the Springtrap, slamming his full weight into the chest of the animatronic. Due to his size, and lack of surprise and distance, he was only able to knock the animatronic off balance for a moment. 

There was only a second after he opened his mouth before he was yanked away from the animatronic, not by the rotting hand, but a soft plush purple hand, “Bonnie?” He breathed out as the bunny placed him back up onto the stage. Freddy and Chica stepped in front between them and the Springtrap, “What are you guys doing?” 

“You can't do this alone Mike,” Freddy simply stated, not turning his gaze from the Springtrap, “We caused this to happen all those years ago, and we're going to fix this.” Bonnie nodded to Mike as he patted the guard on the shoulder, before positioning himself beside Freddy. 

“Let's rock,” Bonnie grinned, picking up his guitar from the side of the stage, “Vengeance style.” Chica snorted, but got into her fighting position, her cupcake sat down next to Mike. 

“But,” Mike tried to stand up, quickly being sat right back down by a glare from Freddy, “What do you mean fix what you did years ago? I thought that selfish bastard freed you guys?” 

“He did,” Chica responded to Mike's question, “But we came back.” 

“Why?” 

“We have time to discuss this later, Mike,” Freddy scoffed, twirling his microphone in his hand, “Right now we need to focus on this.” With that, Freddy gripped his microphone tightly, before lunging forward, closely followed by Bonnie and Chica. 

Springtrap screeched out, he himself lunging at the animatronics, first going for Freddy. 

Before either party had a chance to make contact, Foxy flew out from the Pirate's Cove with a loud screech, latching onto Springtrap's back. The rotting bunny growled, reaching back to the pirate fox. He gripped the hooked hand before throwing the pirate off his back, the animatronic crashing into one of the tables. 

“Foxy!” Bonnie gasped, looking over to his friend, “Are you alright?” He didn't have much time to check before dodging the punch aimed square at his head, “Get up when you can!” Bonnie called to Foxy before he swung his guitar, smashing in over Springtrap's head, “Jammin!'” 

“I be fine,” Foxy huffed, getting back up onto his feet, “Focus on ye self!” In a daze, the pirate went over to Mike, examining him over, “Ye alright, lad? Nothing broken or hurt?” 

“I'm fine captain,” Mike nodded slowly, still shocked with the whole situation, “Why are you guys back here? Weren't you happy to be free?” 

Foxy's ears dropped at the question, behind him Freddy punched Springtrap in the face before he himself given a returned punch, much harder than the one he gave, “We couldn't leave without solvin' the problem we started. Marionette knew somethin' like this would have happened, but we didn't believe 'em at first. Now, we know better.” Foxy's ears returned to their perked up state, hearing the sound of something heavy crashing into the wall. 

The pirate turned around, just in time to see Chica crash against Bonnie, who was the one who bumped against the wall. The two animatronics clumsily tried to get back up on their feet. Freddy, who was still standing, was locked in a fist fight with the larger rotting animatronic. He threw a punch, hitting Springtrap in the gut. Springtrap retaliated with a powerful headbutt into the animatronic bear. 

“Get off!” Chica screeched, pushing her bunny friend off of her, “We need to help Freddy!” Bonnie voiced an apology before getting himself and Chica up off the floor. Both returned to the fray, Bonnie going in to punch Springtrap from behind, why Chica was preparing to sweep the large animatronic after the blow. 

Watching the fight was like watching children try to fight off an adult: each one would throw a hit, which would be responded to with a stronger hit. Freddy's once smooth synthetic fur was ruffled in many areas, a few places torn and shredded. Bonnie's hit had been successful, striking the rotting animatronic in the back, but brought him off balance enough that Chica's sweep completely missed. 

Foxy shook his head with a sigh, turning back to Mike, “Get to the back of the stage. We don't want ye to get in trouble.” Mike frowned, not wanting to leave, but he wasn't going to argue with the captain. Taking a quick glance to the others before heading to the back of the stage, he noticed something familiar: those black eyes. They were in the hunt. 

Mike positioned himself so he was close to the backstage equipment, but close enough that he could watch what was going on. He wanted to see everything they did to stop that bastard. The man he once thought was his friend not only was a complete liar, but the one who killed those children, killed his best friend, and who was messing with his current best friend's mind. That was a quick way to be the first on Mike's "enemies" list. 

“This is really fucked up,” Mike breathed heavily, shaking his head, “Even for a Freddy Fazbear facility, this is really fucked up.” 

He hunched down next to the stereo equipment, watching the battle from afar, “You can do it guys,” he voiced out a quiet cheer of encouragement, “Kick his sorry ass.” It was odd for him, watching as the things he used to fear, were defending him from the undead spirit of the man who was his boss once, and at the time, thought he was his friend. 

Taking a deep sigh, Mike closed his eyes, silently wishing that he could forget it all. He wanted to forget what he had learned, that all his past had came crashing down upon him. Just for once, he wanted to believe something was real. 

The sound of another mechanical screech caught his attention, his eyes snapping open. His blue eyes focused on the group of animatronics, seeing that Foxy was thrown back towards the Pirate's Cove, why Bonnie and Freddy where on either side of the Springtrap, Freddy looking exhausted and Bonnie had a large chunk of his fur torn off from his shoulder. Chica was running over to help Foxy up, her jaw slightly unhinged from it's normal position. 

Despite how bad they looked, there was still the blackness to their eyes, focused on their opponent. On the other side, Springtrap was barely scratched, though it was hard to tell the new damage compared to the old damage on the suit. Springtrap was acting a bit tired himself, the single full ear slightly drooping. 

_I never knew they could get tired_ , Mike hummed to himself in his mind. He glanced down to the stereo equipment, a thought going through his mind as he gazed at the various wires and plugs leading from the wall to the equipment. There was one thing that stuck with him helping out on the days of old when he worked the day shift when they needed somebody to step in when another day guard was out for their shift: kids would always want to touch the animatronics after they cried. It was a comforting technique kids would receive from their parents: when they'd cry, their parents would hug them. This translated to the children wanting to get a hug from the animatronics. 

One event reminded him of a near horrible accident. A kid had been bullied, and Bonnie interrupted the kids, breaking up the scene and sent the other kids to their parents with a security guard not too far behind. The kid was so happy to have his favorite animatronic to come to his aid, he hugged the bunny why drenched in his own tears and snot. Kid ended up getting a small shock since the old animatronic suits had some openings to expose the wires. Nothing too serious, but they had to implement the rules of “No hugging the animatronics” and eventually graduating into “Don't touch the animatronics.” 

But it gave Mike an idea. The wires in the old suit might have been have been fried beyond repair, but there was still a way to give him a shocking surprise. Swiftly, Mike unhooked a few of the cables connecting to the main speakers, moving to backstage. 

In the back he frantically searched for the second part of his plan. Most of the backstage was full of cables and various wires to connect not only to the speakers, but to charge the animatronics as well. This was exactly what he needed. Mike rushed to the opposite wall, picking up one of the cables as well as an extension cord: it was going to be needed, especially since the rotten bastard wouldn't stand still. 

The guard snapped the one end of the extension cord into the wall closest to the stage before connecting the other end to the cable, making sure it was nice and snug. From there he threw the length of cord out onto the stage, quickly rummaging through the small fridge the mechanics hid in the back, just because it was such a distance between the backstage and the employee lounge, especially when there was a show going on. 

Inside the fridge was just exactly what he was looking for: a water bottle—granted it was only half full, but it was enough for what he needed. Giving a silent 'thank you' and an apology to the mechanics, Mike snatched up the bottle, taking it along with him as he left the backstage. 

As he left the backstage the guard swiped up the length of cable he had thrown down earlier. Once at the front of the stage he stopped, throwing back down the cable by his feet, “Hey!” His voice echoed in the room—not as loud as he wanted it to along with the fact it cracked a bit, but it at least did what he wanted. 

The large rotting animatronic turned it's attention to the short guard, narrowing his eyes. In the grip of Springtrap's hands was Bonnie, the smaller animatronic bunny looking worse for ware, one of his ears broken at the joint and various patches of missing fur all over his body. Freddy was being helped up by Chica, why Foxy struggled to get up, his leg wrenched into a grotesque position. 

“Mikey!” Foxy's voice rose sounding almost like a screech, the yellow eyes going wide, “What are ye doin'?!” The animatronic fox tried to scramble to his feet to run to the guard, only to be stopped by Bonnie colliding with him. The two fumbled with each other, Foxy cursing at Bonnie, trying to get enough footing to help Mike. 

Much to the animatronics' dismay, they couldn't move too well, let alone fast enough to reach the guard before their opponent did. The silver eyes narrowed at Mike, the large body moving slowly towards him, “And what is the little child doing? Playing hero to your little animatronic pals?” A low gravelly laugh echoed through the empty room, “Playtime is over Schmidt, it's time to be a big boy,” the words stopped for a moment before the silver eyes became a bright purple, “And **DIE**!” With that Springtrap lunged at the short guard. 

Quick as a bunny Mike dodged to the side, taking off the cap of the water bottle. He was barely able to duck out of the way of another swing from the large arm, “That's what you think!” His voice was raised with both adrenaline and fear. It was exhilarating to be in such a situation—since Mike always enjoyed a bit of thrill in his life—but this was a bit too stressful for his liking. 

Aiming, he threw the remaining water from the bottle onto Springtrap, trying to soak as much of the animatronic as possible. From there he stepped back towards the cables, “I'm about to give you a shocking revelation!” Even in a stressful situation, nothing could stop his puns. 

The animatronic hesitated for a moment, as if curious what the guard was doing, and what he thought he was doing with the water, “You're still playing around like a child...” Springtrap leaned forward, letting out a low gurgling growl, “Grow up Schmidt and smell the cruel reality of life.” 

From there Springtrap lunged at Mike, letting out a low hiss, but once again the short guard slipped right past the animatronic's grasp, “Little shit!” 

“If this is what life smells like,” Mike grinned, feeling the rush of adrenaline give him a boost of energy, “Then it smells like stupid old guys who got caught inside a suit like an idiot!” He got out a laugh before having to dodge the large jaws of Springtrap, “And you're not going to take a bite out of this!” Not thinking he swung out his fist, striking the animatronic right in the muzzle. 

Doing more damage to his fist rather than Springtrap, Mike recoiled back, slipping to where he had started the mess. In one fell swoop he snatched up the cable with the clamp at the end tight in his good hand, “Let's dance mate!” He lifted a hand and beckoned Springtrap to come at him—like he was part of some dramatic film taunting the wild beast. The thin fingers drummed against the cool metal of the cables waiting for the beast to charge. 

When Springtrap charged like an angered bull, Mike ran towards the animatronic. It felt like the stupidest thing he had ever done: heading right towards the thing that wanted to maim him beyond recognition. This was something he had to do, to make sure the bastard didn't kill anybody else—or at least, to stall him so somebody else would have a chance to take him out. 

A few feet away from colliding right into the monster, Mike dropped his weight legs first, sliding down between the animatronic's feet. As he slide between them, he attached the end of the cable to the small metal pole sticking from between one leg and the pelvis, “Haha!” Mike cheered, raising his hands to strike a victory pose why still on the ground, “Hook, line and sinker! And good luck getting off that stinker!” 

Despite what the guard thought, the rotting animatronic didn't start to twitch and convulse from the volts going through the body. He let out a small squeak, feeling dread wash over him: _Did I turn on the power to the charging stations?!_ It was a horrible thought to have after he had executed every part of the plan except for that vital one, “Fuck...” Mike huffed, realizing that he was in a terrifying situation: he was flat on his back between the legs of a very angry Springtrap. They all knew what was going to happen next. 

Springtrap's attention turned down to the guard, that permanent grin on the animatronic's face seemingly getting more malicious and smug. A low chuckle slipped into his mind, as the glowing purple eyes locked with the bright blue ones of Mike, “It looks like...” Springtrap mused as he reached down, grabbing Mike by the throat and effortlessly lifted him off the tiled floor, “Your little plan failed.” 

He brought Mike closer to his face, the rotting stench burning the man's nose, “Game Over, Schmidt.” The guard wiggled in the grip, his fragile bones starting to groan from the pressure; it wasn't going to take much for the animatronic to snap his neck. 

“Piece of undead shit,” a different voice came from around them, something that was familiar to the group of them. Before anybody could even think about moving a muscle or a joint, electricity flowed from the cable all the way to the end which was connected right to the hip of Springtrap. In a flash the volts reached all corners of the animatronic, all the way to the tips of the fingers into all the metallic parts of the endoskeleton. Sparks came off the tips, the smell of burnt flesh mixing with the already potent smell of decay and death. The current continued on, transferring over to Mike through the hand around his neck. 

Human screams mixed with the animatronic screech, echoing through the building. The four tattered animatronics lunged forward, Foxy grabbing onto Mike why Bonnie and Freddy worked getting the hand off. Chica held onto Mike's torso, keeping him steady. 

Lucky for the newer models of the animatronics, they weren't effected by the electricity due to their body being covered in the synthetic fur. 

Mike, half way knocked out, could hear the voices calling out his name as they struggled to free him. None of the words came clear into his ears, just garbled sounds of his old friends, calling for him to be awake. The only voice that came clear was the one from before, “You're still a moron Schmidt.” Mike gave a weak chuckle, before all went black. 

He could hear him, but couldn't see his face, “Schmidt,” he recognized that voice. It always sounded so annoyed with him, like he was constantly rolling his eyes, “Schmidt wake up.” 

The blue eyes shot open, finally seeing the source of the voice, “Jeremy?” His first reaction was to reach up and touch his old friend's face, “You're eyes are so pretty.” 

Immediately his hands were slapped away, before a slap came to his face, “Shut the fuck up Schmidt before I kill you.” 

“But aren't I already dead?” 

“Not yet,” the spirit sneered, pointing an accusing finger at him, “But you will be if you continue to be stupid!” Again Mike was slapped across the face, “Stop being so fucking careless with your life.” 

The shorter man continued to stare at his lost friend, his mind processing the whole situation, “Wait...” he sat up, rubbing his neck, “Are you like my guardian angel?” 

Green eyes stared at him in disbelief before another slap across the face, “Why the fuck would I be your guardian angel? I'm no guardian and I'm definitely not a stupid harp playing halo wearing fucking angel!” 

He cleared his throat, the red leaving his green eyes as his anger calmed, “You're going to wake up soon, in the hospital where you should fucking stay, but,” he pointed the finger to Mike again, “You need to find Vincent, protect the kid from **Him** and get to Freddy and the gang. They'll know what to do about this and will take you through the steps.” 

Mike opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by a hand held up, “Don't say anything, I don't want your emotional shit right now. Just get back in there, protect the kid, and,” his eyes went dark, the whites of his eyes drowned by blackness, the green turning a red-orange, “ **Kill that fucking bastard**.”


	29. Things Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A deeper look comes into the plans of such a twisted soul, and things become much more complicated than what they first seemed...

Everything felt numb: his mind, his body, his emotions. All he could feel was like he was floating in darkness, emptiness touching the tips of his fingers and toes. Nothing made sense in his mind. What was his name? Who was he? It was all blurring together. 

A shiver ran down his spine, the blackness around him growing cold. He didn't want to open his eyes, he was afraid. Another shiver involuntarily quivered through his spine as something touched his head, so gentle and yet so strong, colder than the air around him. 

He winces at the touch, recoiling back a bit. Whatever was touching him didn't feel good against his skin. There was a familiarity to the touch that reminded him of something terrible, something he was afraid of, something he needed to get away from as quickly as possible. He tried to move away, but something seemed to hold him in place. Was it fear, or was it something else? 

It came closer to him, feeling the hot breath against his neck: it was behind him. For a moment, it breathed, saying nothing as if taking in his scent. Then, it spoke to him in the low raspy and broken voice, “Why do you fight me so much?” 

In that moment, everything came rushing back to him like a train at full speed. He was Vincent Valenteno, manager of Freddy Fazbear's Family Pizzeria. He had just lost consciousness due to the spirit within the Springtrap taking him over. And he was here, in this darkness trying to fight his way out. His memories had slowly started to slip away, feeling himself go numb as he too started to slip into the emptiness. 

He remembered in that instance why he was afraid of the being behind him: it was Springtrap, that thing that haunted his dreams and left him terrified of everything. He was so close to him, the smell of rotting flesh thick around him, stinging his nose and making his eyes start to water. He could feel the touch, the feeling of the metal brushing against his head. 

“It's no use to fight me with such feeble attempts,” Springtrap purred, the hand pulling back to gently run through the purple-black hair, “In the end, I will always win,” the animatronic head leaned in closer, hovering right besides Vincent's face. It laughed, turning to be barely an inch away from the side of the man's face, “You can try to burn me inside the building like that idiot security guard did, you can escape this town, you can go half way across the world. You can change your face and your name, you can go deep underground where nobody can find you. No matter how far you run or hide, I will always find you.” 

The free hand of the animatronic reached over Vinc's shoulder, touching it against his left pectoral, hovering over his heart, “You're never alone now my child. I am always with you, there to help you through the troubles of your life, to show you what you should and will become. To show you how to make yourself known and how to make those fools cower before you.” The large head bumped against the human head, resting there for a moment before pulling back. 

Another shiver ran down Vinc's spine, trying to scream out his protests, to deny all the cruel spirit was saying, but nothing came out. He opened his mouth again, trying hard to get out the words, before the hand previously gently stroking his hair covered his mouth roughly, pulling him back towards the animatronic, “Do not speak dear child. There are no words to be said...” There was a purr to the sickly amused voice. 

He felt something rest upon his head, guessing that it was the animatronic's head, “You will soon understand why I am doing this. It is not for my own gain, but to give you something to live for, a new life to thrive in. All I ask in return is for you to be good and not fight me so hard, to allow me into your life.” 

Vincent struggled, feeling claustrophobic being so close to the killer. What felt even more odd was the affection and care he was receiving from his nightmare, as is Springtrap was a mother coddling her child, reassuring them that things would get better and that everyone loved them. This wasn't the feeling he got from being so close to the animatronic: it was more of a thick chocking fear, that at any moment the thing could turn to what he remembered it to be and rip him apart limb by limb. 

The air around him seemed to flee, leaving him short of breath, his lungs begging for oxygen. Fear boiled up inside his mind, taking over rational thought. Quickly he crumbled, tears starting to pour down his face. He was encompassed by his fear, unable to think clearly and unable to move. He wanted to move away from the animatronic—his own great uncle, and leave it all behind. 

“I will protect you child,” Springtrap continued to say the soothing words, pulling the man closer to his body, keeping both hands where they were before, “Nobody will hurt you ever again. You won't need love and affection, only their fear and pain.” 

It was strange feeling, being so close to the thing he despised more than anything in his life: it was almost comforting despite the fear and the creeping feeling that tingled the ends of his nerves. A sensation caught his nerves, pressure starting to wrap around his abdomen, tightly coiling around him. 

His blue eyes widen in panic, trying to look down to see what it was. The line of vision was blocked by the large animaronic hand, forcing him to feel with his free hand what the binding was. 

Gently his fingers touched the thin strip that was constricting around his abdomen: it was smooth and cold to the touch, almost like living wires. There was also something else, something wet to them. He recoiled back his hand, bringing it up to his face to observe what was on his fingers: blood. From the small touch to the wires his fingers became covered in thick coats of blood, old bits of blood mixed in with fresh new ones, slick and heavily smelling metallic. Was this his blood? 

The wires shoot up, wrapping around the hand in his vision, tightly constricting the flesh beneath them, before forcing the arm down next to Vincent's side. A shocked and uncomfortable noise escaped his lips, but still no words form. He struggled against the wires, trying to get his hands free, but to no avail. Each struggle he did made the wires bind tighter on his skin, painfully digging into his flesh. 

Vincent began to feel different, sinking back as if trying to swim backwards through the depths of the ocean, unable to breath fully without pressure on his lungs. His breaths became shorter, seeing more and more of the arms around his body. He couldn't have been going back anymore he was pressed against the animatronics body close enough before this, how could he get farther back? 

The all too familiar fear rose again, his arms starting to change their positions to mimic the positions of the animatronic arms, before vanishing into them. His heart pounded against his rib cage painfully, feeling himself sink deeper in. Soon he started to lose feeling in his body, becoming numb once again. 

He screamed, trying to struggle using what was left that he could feel of his body. He jerked his head trying to free any part of himself, finding his voice again, “No! No, no no!” Vinc attempted to push forward away from the animatronic body, only getting a few seconds of distance before it closed quickly, leaving him with less room to fight back. 

“Do not fight child,” that low voice soothingly mused at him, “This has been coming for some time now. Do not fight your fate...” Vincent gasped, feeling the air evacuate from his lungs, his body becoming numb all over. His mind began to slow once again, feeling nothing but his own dimming mind trapped within the new prison. He tried to move, and when nothing responded, he couldn’t even cry out. Soon, everything faded into a blackened non-existence… 

_________________________________________________________________ 

A rush of energy flowed through him, forcing him to open his eyes with a jolt. It wasn't painful at all—more refreshing—causing his mind to work on overdrive for a moment, before it quickly died down. Things felt, different to him: the room was blinding, colors overly saturated and burning his eyes. 

Gradually they became dulled, returning to what he remembered of the room: he was in the Fright Attraction Room, but from an angle he had never seen before. Everything seemed shorter to him, closer to the ground than how they had been before. How could it be? All around his was the four walls of the room, each decorated with the various trinkets and props recovered from the fire that consumed Fazbear’s Fright all those years ago. 

Vincent tried to blink, but when the action didn't occur he started to feel a puzzled thought cross his mind: _Why can't I move? I'm not breathing...?_ And as a thought hit his mind the panic returned, _Am I dead?!_

“You are not dead child...” The familiar voice mused at him sounding as if it came from inside him, “At least, you're not what people think is dead.” Where was he? The bastard was somewhere nearby, messing with his head, making him see these things. None of it was real—it was just a trick being played on him to try to manipulate him further. 

“This trick isn't funny!” He bitterly hissed at the Springtrap, trying to pinpoint his exact location, “What the heck is going on?!” 

A low chuckle echoed around him, before the low voice speaks up again, “See for yourself...” His eyes blinked, before a hand raised up to eye level. 

The only problem was not the fact he wasn't willingly lifting his hand, but more the fact it wasn't **his** hand. Hovering before his vision was that broken, partially exposed metal hand with the once golden casing over the appendages now a dulled golden-green. The fingers twitched slightly, curling into the palm. 

“W-what...?” The man's voice shook, staring at the arm, “That's not my arm... What is happening to me?” He would have started to shake with fear if he had control, his mind rushing to work on a reasonable explanation for what was happening, “This is just a dream... This is just a dream...” Vinc repeated those five words to himself, hoping that if he said it enough it would become true. It had to be, there was no other explanation for it. 

“This isn't a dream dear child,” Springtrap reassured him, “This is all reality. The night is over, and soon the children will come in to play with Freddy and his friends.” 

“How is this reality?!” Vincent's voice cracked, his panic flowing out with each word, “I'm not in my body! That can't be real! I can't be inside you, it's not possible!” 

A low snicker resonated in his ears, burrowing into his mind. He felt sick, foreign in this new place. He was like a pest, latching onto the host and living inside them, waiting until the host noticed them and got rid of the pest. It was claustrophobic inside the suit, feeling as if everything was tightly pressed against his body, or what felt like his body. 

“Welcome to my prison child,” Springtrap laughed, taking the raised arm and placing it so it hovered just above the open exposed chest, “You will be staying here for a while since,” the voice went bitter, “You don’t seem to appricate my gift. So why you rest here, I’ll be doing my part.” 

“You're part?!” Vincent squeaked, “What do you mean 'your part?'” 

“Poor child,” Springtrap purred, taking the other hand to place it against the glass surrounding them, “I'll let you in on a secret, since we've became so close.” Part of Vincent wished he could have screamed out or at least punched the animatronic for that horribly tasteless use of words. 

“Those phantoms that pathetic guard saw, the ones that haunted your dreams for so many night,” he chuckled, tilting his head slightly to the side, “Those were those little brats I killed so many years ago... 

“After I destroyed the suits, after they had trapped me within this prison, they stayed around, just to help make sure nobody came to find me. During that time, I learned some fascinating things,” Springtrap leaned his head back, silver eyes gazing off into the emptiness above him, “Did you know that a powerful spirit can start to influence other spirits around it? I learned how to influence those little brats, starting to turn them against each other, and into my little puppets. 

“They could never get a physical form since they didn't have their suits to hide in, to protect themselves from me. I got every single one of them, one by one becoming my little puppets to play with. It was so exciting to be able to turn those little brats into my toys, after they had became my undoing. The only one that gave me problems was poor little Marionette.” 

Vincent could feel the satisfaction wafting off the trapped spirit as he spoke, “Then I found out another trick: if a spirit is weakened enough, but my influence doesn't work to break them, there's a little trick I can do to make sure they submit to me.” 

“What you did to me,” Vincent frowned. 

“Exactly what I did to you,” Springtrap confirmed, “I slip into their mind, linking our souls and minds temporarily together. From there I overpower them, absorbing their soul into mine. They become part of me, and I can choose what to do with them: either corrupt them into my puppet then release them, or-” 

Vinc had a hunch of what the 'or' was and it did not settle well with him at all. Springtrap could felt his discomfort, amusement flickering through his wires, “Or I assimilate them into me, slowly devouring their memories and their life, becoming nothing more than a piece of my soul.” 

“You can’t do that!” Vincent’s voice cracked, the fear welling up inside again, “If you destroy my soul, or whatever you would do,” he didn’t want to remember what the Springtrap had said his fate could be, “If my spirit dies so does my body.” 

“Not true little child,” Springtrap retorted, delight flickering in the voice, “If it—sadly—comes down to the fact you won’t be a good boy and accept my gift, and you don’t submit yourself to me…” The eyes closed for a moment, leaving Vincent’s vision in darkness, “I will absorb your broken soul into mine, and then use the last bit of tether to your body to slip out of this prison into my new home. 

“As I roam free within your body you will just become a part of me and for a while you’ll be able to watch as I do my work. You will feel every blow I deliver, every drop of blood that trickles down your stolen fingers. And,” the voice became dangerous, the eyes snapping open, “I will make sure the last thing you feel, the last moment you are not but a mere piece of me… is your own hands killing those two little children you care so much for.” 

The bitter taste was still there in his mouth, making Vincent feel sick to his stomach, “You're sick and really messed up.” Vinc's voice became stern and angry, “Can't you just leave something alone and let me live my life in peace?!” The anger was, unusual to say the least: Vinc could keep his cool in many situations, hardly ever getting angry enough to yell. It had to be His doing, that was the only explanation for the rage, “Just leave me alone! I want to go back, back before I even met you, so I don't have to deal with this!” The anger soon melted into overwhelming sorrow the poor boy retracting inside what was left of his own mind. He wanted it all to be a dream, begged for it to all be over and he would wake up in his bed to Sebastian and Mimi shaking him awake. 

“Please, just leave me alone,” Vincent sobbed, his voice shaking, “Just leave me alone...” Everything felt broken and empty, his emotions all starting to weaken into just a blur of anger and sorrow. Things started to drift, right before the Fright Room's door swung open dramatically, somebody stepping in. 

“Hello there Mr. Inspiring!” The voice was easily recognized, and since only one person called Springtrap 'inspiring.' Joseph stood in the doorway, a guitar in his hand and his uniform slightly messy, “How are you doing today?” He seemed rather chipper despite the hell that occurred the night before, “I heard somebody got out of his little cage last night and ruining the bosses' plans.” 

The teenager lowered his voice leaning towards the glass, silver eyes watching him, “Between you and me, I'm glad that stuff didn't go through. I could have sworn Boss Man would make me do the night shift with him and the Pun Smith, but then suddenly everything was canceled and we were forced out of the building.” 

The silver eyes half closed, emulating unamusement towards the words of the waiter. But, being the excited person Joseph was, he didn't seem to take notice to it, or give it any attention, “Alice and I were talking about what to do for Vinc's birthday party, but apparently, that can't be happening either.” 

Vincent's attention shot up from his collapsing emotions, curious about what Joseph meant, “Joseph?” His eyes watched the teen as he went over to sit atop one of the empty tables in the room. 

Once situated on the table, with guitar next to his side, Joseph sighed, continuing to talk, “Poor Vincent and Mike,” he shook his head, strumming a few of the strings on his guitar, “They're both in the hospital right now: Mike with some serious electricity burns and Boss Man is in some sort of coma.” 

“I'm in a coma?” Vincent shot a glare in any direction in hopes to at least get close to glaring at Springtrap, “You put me in a coma?” His voice reflected annoyance and a distraught surprise, “What the heck?” 

“Would you rather be dead child?” Springtrap mused to him, “Besides, you'll get back to your body soon enough if you’re a good child.” Behind him Vinc felt the presence grow, looming over his form. Hands grabbed onto his upper arms, gently bringing him back. Then everything became cold, as it was before he had woken up. 

The voice flowed into his mind, becoming one of his own thoughts, “You are mine dear Vincent. My little child to play with and to control. You are me, and I am you. You are my little child now and I will show you what your place in the world is...” He paused in the words, leaning in closer to him, whispering, “I will show you our place in the world.” 

“I…” Vincent struggled to reply, feeling his mind slip away from him, foreign thoughts replacing his emptying mind, “I don’t…” The thoughts brought in violent intent, a lust to bring pain and horror to those around him. His once calm thoughts had turned into ones of sheer violence and chaos, only wanting to feel blood trickle down his skin, to feel the force needed to crush each bone between his fingers or below the blunt face of a hammer. He wanted to slice into the soft flesh of a woman’s neck, to watch as the blood gushed out like a fountain. And the only image that stuck in his mind: he wanted to watch the light leave Victoria’s eyes as he pulled out all the remaining teeth in that smug mouth of hers, to rip her tongue out and force it down her throat. He wanted to take a hammer to that ‘wonderful’ brain of hers and pick out all the parts she didn’t need anymore. All he wanted was to watch her die. 

“Kill her,” Springtrap spoke, the words becoming the only thought in Vincent’s mind, “and you will never be alone. Kill the woman, and we will be complete…”


	30. Morbid Obessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hospitals are a place of healing, but this sort of healing is not what is supposed to happen...

A groan came from his lips, sitting up in the hospital bed he now found himself in. It was hard to tell how long he was out, the last few times he had woken up was blurred by the effects of the sedatives the doctors used—he must have been in a lot of pain during the process of fixing his wounds. Any recollection of the events between when he arrived and the present were all foggy messes of jumbled memories. 

Judging by the sheer number of bandages around his body, it told him he had some serious problems previously. _Of course, I had serious problems_ , he laughed internally, checking the wrappings under his hospital gown, _I wouldn’t be in a hospital—again—if I didn’t have problems_. He took a moment to think, recalling why he was in the hospital. 

“Did I trip down the stairs once again?” He chuckled to himself aloud, sitting back in the semi-comfortable bed. In all truthfulness, he knew exactly why he was there: he had gotten electrocuted along with the damned rotting animatronic he zapped. Lucky for him it seemed the shock did the trick—especially since he was currently not strangled to death, or worse—to disable the Springtrap. 

Still, despite his victory over the undead killer, his heart felt heavy: after so many years, back when he was working for the old Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, the Head Guard was only playing a part, pretending to be something besides the ice-cold bastard he truly was. The man he thought was a cheerful, kind friend of his was nothing more than a cold-blooded killer of children. It wouldn’t matter now, even if he decided to report he knew the identity of the Fazbear Killer: the case went cold and they sealed it up. 

To distract himself, Mike decided to shift his thoughts to a more important topic: how his actual friend, Vincent, was doing. Something deep in his gut told him that he’d find the purple haired man in another room of the hospital. Mike always had a way to tell where people he cared about were—something like a sixth sense—and he could tell Vincent was there. Though, there was an itch at the back of his mind telling him things were far from alright for the man. 

Deep within his own thoughts, Mike didn’t hear the door to the rather nicely decorated hospital room open. A figure stepped in, the white lab coat covering parts of the dark red dress shirt the doctor wore along with the light-brown khaki pants. The doctor softly closed the door behind him, taking a moment to observe the patient: awake and talking already was a good sign, and not unexpected of the man. 

A grin came to the slightly aged face, taking a few long steps towards the bed, stopping a foot away from the bed. For a few moments, the brown eyes watched Mike as if admiring him or taking in how he looked. After observing Mike for a few moments longer, the man cleared his throat. 

The Black-haired man jumped, letting out a sound like a startled cat as he whipped his body around to face the source of the voice, “You could have warned-” he stopped mid-sentence, blue eyes meeting the brown ones. A small smile came to his face, relaxing his muscles, and with a roll of his eyes huffed, “Fuck you man! You scared the shit out of me!” 

“Your fault for not paying attention enough to notice my entrance, Schmidt,” the doctor chortled, giving back the friendly smile. The man brushed back a few strands of his bright orange hair from his vision, before heading to the foot of the bed, “I’d say I’m surprised to see you in again,” he continued as he picked up the chart hanging on the end of the bed, “But we both know that would be a lie.” 

He hummed, flipping over the first page, “It’s a little early for your monthly visits Schmidt. From what Marylin said, you were in here just a couple weeks ago with a gunshot wound. Which, surprisingly, isn’t something you have come in for before.” 

“Well,” Mike gave the man a cheeky grin, “I at least had a more trustworthy doctor last time.” He repositioned a bit, resting his hands behind his head, “I don’t trust you being my doctor—no offense.” 

“So much offense taken,” the doctor rolled his eyes, his focus shifting from the chart to Mike, “Per your chart, and the gossip around, you’re in here because of serious electrical burns and near asphyxiation. I usually don’t ask the other doctors why you were in, or ask questions about what stupid situation you got yourself into that time, but I’m going to make an exception to that,” there was a thick sound of curiosity in his tone, quite contrasting to the serious expression on his face, “What the bloody hell did you do to yourself this time, and I hope you didn’t drag that other man who came in around the same time as you into the mess. 

“It’s bad enough that you keep getting yourself into dangerous situations with your brittle bones, but to drag another person into it is just not right. Though,” the man sighed, “it must be something significant since you both came from that new Fazbear facility.” 

“I electrocuted an animatronic,” Mike casually shrugged, speaking like it was something done on a daily basis—like it was second nature to him, “He was being an ass, so I shocked him.” 

“I don’ think that facility is Afton Robotics Incorporated, Mike,” the man sighed as he shook his head, placing the chart back on the hook, “I’m going to assume it wasn’t Freddy or his gang, since as I’ve heard they are actually well behaved now and not possessed by the spirits of dead children.” 

“…” Mike frowned, recalling what Foxy had told him right as the large fight between the four of them and that huge rotting bunny began, “That may not actually be tru-” 

“I don’t want to know about that,” the other raised a hand to stop Mike in mid-sentence, “I’ve moved on from Freddy Fazbear’s and would rather not get mixed up in that stuff again. Anything that goes on there, doesn’t concern me.” 

The brown eyes softened, gazing at Mike a few moments longer before taking a step forward, closing in the space between him and the bed. A tan hand came forward, patting Mike on the cheek before he returned to standing up straight, “You should be good to get out of here now, just keep an eye on your health,” then the finger pointed accusingly at him, causing the shorter man to shrink down in the bed a bit, “and no more trying to brawl with animatronics—at least not until your body recovers from the shock.” He ignored the snort from the man, “Come back and see me if anything starts going wrong.” 

“What should I look for to know when things are ‘going wrong?’” Mike questioned, watching at the doctor walked towards the closed door, “Like random twitches or loss of limb function?” 

“You’ve been through this before,” the man glanced over his shoulder, opening the door. He gave a grin, before turning back to face the front, “Just don’t get yourself killed you bloody moron. Also,” quickly giving another glance over his shoulder he spoke softly, “Your friend is in room 507, and don’t do anything else stupid, alright?” 

With a small wave over his shoulder, the doctor disappeared behind the wall, leaving the door slightly ajar. 

“See you next month, Dr. Smith!” Mike called out to the man as he left the room. Stretching his arms over his head, Mike studied the room to find where they had placed his clothing so he could change. 

The man had to curse at himself for not bringing up the news he had found out from the dead bastard, but with a second thought to it he decided not to: the death of their friend hit Smith hard: the once cheerful man had become colder, more bitter about the world around him. Mike shook his head standing up from the hospital bed. 

507\. He needed to remember that number so he could see how Vinc was doing, of course after he got himself discharged. Mike stumbled over to the pile where his guard uniform was, taking off the hospital gown first. 

Efficiently he slipped on the dark purple-gray pants then the purple shirt over his chest. The tie was missing from the ensemble, so he skipped that part and put on his black shoes. Now that everything was normal, the black-haired man picked up the clipboard that had been left on his bedside. 

In a few minutes Mike was sauntering down the hall towards the elevator to head up to floor five. The dark feeling in his mind was still there, warning his body to brace himself for what he would see. Taking in a deep breath he pressed his thin fingers against the “up” button, calling the elevator to him. Despite how many times he had been to this hospital, it never got any less creepy. 

All the sickness and all the pain that lingered in such a place was always not pleasurable for the guard. He could remember the day he came into the hospital after finding out that his mother had collapsed and was rushed there, after a few hours of being out. It was painful for him, hearing that the surgeons couldn’t save her brain due to the time she was out, and the fact it was an aneurism that caused her to pass out. The hurt he went through having to pull the plug on his own mother was something he never wanted to experience again: to see one of those he cared for in a coma, never to wake up. 

Mike’s brain hardly registered when the elevator doors opened, as well as him stepping inside. He only realized the movement when the doors opened once again, a mechanical voice saying “Floor Five.” The voice jolted him out of his mind, a flash of a young girl, smiling with her bright red hair tied up in pony-tails, her vivid green eyes sparkling as she smiled at him. 

The dazed guard stumbled out of the elevator, bracing himself against the wall. For a moment, he breathed quietly, running a hand through his black hair, “Pull it together man… You need to be in one piece.” A few more deep breaths and he straightened up, brushing off the last few moments as he returned to his normal composure. He proceeded down the hallway studying each sign that sat to the right of the rooms. 501. 503. 505. He stopped at the next one, hearing the beeps and humming of the hospital equipment. 

_Shit…_ Mike’s heart sank, feeling it drop to the pit of his stomach: those machines. Slowly he crept into the room, first noticing all the machines placed around the hospital bed, and the man looking to be resting peacefully with various wires and tubes connected to his body. He held his breath, before he felt two bodies latch onto his torso, jolting him, “Huh?” 

The bright blue eyes glanced down, seeing Mimi and Sebastian burying their face in his sides, hugging tightly onto his body, “Hey tykes…” He somberly greeted them, putting an arm around each other their small shoulders, “How’s he doing?” His eyes left the kids to look at Vinc. 

“He hasn’t changed since they brought him in from what the bright haired doctor said,” Mimi mumbled, partially muffled by her face being smashed into Mike’s side. Both kids’ faces were wrought with sadness, Sebastian remaining silent, a strange occurrence from what Mike knew of the kid. Mimi’s green eye turned up to Mike, tears glittering in the corners of the eye, “Do you think he will wake up soon…? What will we do if he doesn’t wake up?” 

Mike inhaled, holding his breath for a moment. As he exhaled the worry all melted into a protective feeling over the kids. If there was that dark, horrible chance that Vincent didn’t wake up, he would take care of them, “If that happens,” he added as he glanced to both kids, “Which it won’t—I’ll take care of you two. No kids of one of my friends must make such an adjustment. You two will always have a place to go, no matter what.” Mike sighed, hugging the children close. He didn’t want it to come to that: Vincent would wake up, and he would have to deal with a scolding from Mike for whatever he did. And, he made sure to make a note to get the whole truth out of Vinc, and no room to doge around questions: the whole truth and nothing but it. 

“Once he wakes up, Uncle Mike will have a serious talk with your caretaker,” He tried to sound like he was jokingly serious for the kids, “I’m going to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid to himself and see about preventing this. Until then,” Mike glanced around the room, checking for something to occupy the kids with. 

When nothing came into sight, he decided to take the kids to get a snack, “Let’s go get you two a snack. You’re probably starving, and since you didn’t get the chance to go trick or treating on Halloween, I’ll buy some candy later today for you two.” 

Mimi nodded slowly, Sebastian barely responding to the decision. The kid was hurting, and the best cure for that besides medicine was a snack. Mike smiled a bit, patting the boy on the head, “Come on, cheer up kid. Vincent is a strong guy: he’s been through a lot worse and has pushed through it. He’ll get past this and things will go back to normal.” Nudging the kids off his body, the guard let the two towards the door, taking one last glance towards Vinc. _Don’t be dead…_

__________________________________________________________________ 

It was a nice change from the horror that had just happened the night before: to cheer up the kids, Mike decided in a snap moment to challenge the kids to a race, ending up with all three of them getting yelled at by a nurse for running in the halls—which made it even better. 

The older man laughed, picking up Mimi in his arms, twirling her around. He placed her back on solid ground before grabbing Sebastian in an all body hug. Mimi giggled before hugging onto Mike’s back, her snack being smushed between her body and Mike’s. 

Another nurse shushed them, this time getting a response out of Mike, “Hey, don’t kill the fun! You should be glad a visitor is happy when their friend is in a coma fighting for his life, instead of being all mopey and depressed. We’re bringing the mood up.” He didn’t bother to hear the nurse’s reaction before grinning to the kids, “Speaking of that, let’s go check on Vinc: he may be awake.” 

The two kids nodded quickly, following Mike close behind as all three made their way back to room 507. As they approached, the bright haired doctor was just leaving the room. The brown eyes glanced to Mike, before playfully rolling, “Go the fuck home Mike, you don’t live here.” 

“I should just have a permanent room in this hospital man,” He gave a cheesy grin to the doctor, “Besides, I need to make sure my friend is okay.” His blue eyes watched the doctor, worry glinting in them, “You were just in there with him… how is he?” 

“Calm your bloody tits,” Dr. Smith rolled his eyes again as he passed by the three, “He’s awake now but not very conscious.” All of the three perked up at his words, but the doctor held out a hand to pause their proceeding, “but don’t launch yourselves at him: Mr. Valenteno seems to be distressed and not completely lucid. Just don’t be stupid.” 

“You always say that to me, is that a hint?” 

“A hint you never seem to get,” Smith snorted, patting Mike on the shoulder, “Go check on your friend moron.” From there he continued down the hallway being met with the nurse that had previously scolded the three. 

“Come on,” Mike kept his voice to a lower volume, mostly to not startle Vincent as they entered. Mike entered first, followed closely by the two kids, all sets of eyes wide and curious about the man’s state. 

Vincent was sitting up, running a hand over some of the tubes that were poking into his body. The intubation tube was gone, replaced by small tubes connecting to his nostrils, which were trying to be taken away. 

His blue eyes were wide looking terrified—yet there was a hint of something dark flickering in the sea of blue. A few of the wires were disconnected, most likely by the doctor since there wasn’t worry for their disconnection. 

Right before he could remove the tubes resting against his nostrils, Mike gently placed a hand on Vincent’s hand, slowly backing away the shaking hand, “Keep that on there man, you need it to help you breathe.” He felt the hand tremble under his hold, the blue eyes staring at him—panicked and distressed, “Everything is alright Vinc, we’re here with you.” 

“H….” Vincent’s lips moved, the one syllable slipping from his lost voice. Tears began to form, streaming down his cheeks, “H-help… me-ee…” He struggled to speak, something seeming to glitch in his voice. In a sharp tug, he held onto the collar of Mike’s shirt, bringing him close to his face. Blue eyes met the half lidded blue eyes of the bedridden man. A flicker of purple arched through Vincent’s eyes, causing his body to tense up. 

His breath slowed, the purple growing within them, “ **Help me…** ” His voice changed, lowering to a soft growl, baring his teeth at Mike, “ **I can’t stay here trapped anymore! I-I must be fr-ree!** ” The man arched his back, letting out a soft scream of pain, rolling his neck. 

He kept in that position for a moment, before snapping his attention back to Mike, “ **Get him out of my mind! Get him out!** ” He raised his other hand, grabbing the open area of the shirt collar next to his other hand, “ **I don’t want this!** ” 

“Uncle Vinc…?” Sebastian whimpered, taking a step towards the bed. The small hand reached out to touch the white sheets on the tall bed, but halted when Mike’s hand took it up. Green eyes turned to the adult, glimmering with the rush of emotion the boy was experiencing, “What’s wrong with him?” 

The older man kept quiet for a moment, leaning down to Seb and Mimi’s height. He breathed deeply before speaking up, “I think it’s best for the two of you if you went outside and waited there…” Mike glanced over his shoulder, seeing Vincent’s lips move as he mumbled words under his breath, unable to be heard—or more understood by the others. His hands were pressed tightly against the side of his face, trapping a few dark purple strands between his fingers. 

A frown formed on the usually grinning face, before Mike focused back on the kids, “He doesn’t seem to be in a good state right now, and though I know he wouldn’t hurt either of you two, I…” the frown deepened, “I’m worried about something and I don’t want you guys to have to hear it.” 

Sebastian opened his mouth to argue, but was interrupted by Mimi, “Alright,” She nodded somberly, taking one of Seb’s hands into hers, “But please,” She turned her green eye, staring beggingly to Mike, “Tel us what’s going on with him later…” 

She gently tugged on Seb’s arm before dragging him reluctantly out of the room. They stopped a few doors down, sitting their small bodies onto the two chairs. Neither kid looked up, nor decided to let go of the other’s hand. 

After the two had gone, Mike’s attention turned back to Vincent. He stood up to his full—yet short—height, stepping next to the bed. He studied Vinc, watching at the man ran a few shaky fingers through his hair, then touching his face, as if he was high… or something else. 

The guard stepped up next to the bed, placing a hand on the hand of Vinc’s that rested on the bed. The blue eyes turned to the man, first glancing to his hand on his, then to Mike’s face. Not a word was said. 

Mike was silent in return, meeting the blue eyes with his own. He observed his eyes, noticing the flicker of purple within the sea of blue. A few moments more of silence, then he spoke, “What have you done with him?” He stated it simply, his eyes showing no playfulness in them. 

Vincent watched him, blinking slowly. He tilted his head, bumping it against the side of one of the nearby machines. There was no flinch or wince from the impact, only a hesitation before he spoke, “What do you mean by that? I’m completely fine, Mike.” The way he said the man’s name was almost as if he wasn’t trying to say it venomously. 

“Cut the shit!” Mike’s voice raised, grabbing onto Vincent by the rim of the hospital gown, “I know you’re not Vincent!” He paused for a moment, sneering at the dumbfounded look on Vinc’s face, “I know him well enough to know he doesn’t act this way! At the sight of those two,” he pointed a finger aggressively towards where the two kids had once been standing, “he would have jumped up, or at least smiled to see them! And,” he got even closer, narrowing his eyes, “He wouldn’t be looking like he went through hell and back through a trash compacter that ripped up his body. Not like some woman who just tried on a new outfit. 

“So I repeat myself,” Mike’s once friendly tone became dark, tightening his grip on the gown, “Where. Is. He?” He emphasized each word, making sure the other could hear him, “What have you done to him you rotting bastard?” 

Vincent watched him, observing him for a moment. Soon the corner of his mouth twitched, curling into a cruel grin, “You know…” The voice was that familiar low tone, mocking and dark, “You seem to be obsessed with the kid… Does he know how you feel about him Schmidt, or will it end up just like what happened with Fitzgerald?” 

“I,” Mike spat, his voice raising at the first word, before quieting down just a bit, “I have the obsession? I’m not the one taking his body and prancing around in it! I’m not the one who’s been stalking and haunting him for the last five years! I’m not the one-” 

He didn’t have a chance to complete the sentence before Vincent leaned up, smashing his lips against Mike’s. It only lasted a heartbeat before being broken off, a quick bite to Mike’s lower lip before they parted too far. 

Vincent fell back into the plush pillow of the hospital bed, letting out a maniacal laughter, “You’re such an idiot!” He calmed down, letting out a quiet chuckle as he focused the now brightly glowing purple eyes on Mike, “You think this child could ever be interested in such a pathetic creature like you?” 

“I’m-” Mike sneered, getting ready with a comeback before he was once again interrupted, this time with a hand striking across his face. 

The shorter man held a hand up to his face, gently touching the stinging flesh. His eyes betrayed him, showing a glint of hurt in the blue ocean of his eyes. He had to remind himself that it wasn’t Vincent: he’d never had struck Mike in such a way. 

“You’re pathetic!” The low voice mused, “You are so desperate to not be alone you cling onto the closest person who doesn’t run away from you,” The purple eyes shot him a venomous glare, “You’re afraid to be alone, so you drive away people because you get too clingy. It’s pathetic!” 

“Shut up!” Mike hissed, having to stop himself from striking Vincent back. He couldn’t hurt Vincent—it wasn’t his fault that the asshole who had taken over his body was being a complete jerk. The smaller hand by his side balled into a fist, before the man tried his best to relax. 

“I’ll never understand you,” The blue eyes closed, trying not to let the frown threatening to form get the best of him, “Whatever made you this toxic—it must have been some really world shattering shit to make you this much of an asshole.” Mike shook his head, before opening his eyes. 

“What does it matter to you Schmidt?” The low voice was a mocking sympathy, “Is it because you still have the delusion that we were friends?” 

“We may have not been friends in your eyes,” Mike let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair, “but we were in my eyes. I make it a rule in my life to be kind and friendly to everyone.” 

“Obviously,” Vincent coldly snorted, taking his eyes away from Mike. The purple eyes glanced up to the ceiling absentmindedly. A small smirk slipped on his face, though staring at seemingly nothing but the sectioned off ceiling tiles. 

“Now,” the man’s normally calm soothing voice went sharp, “I don’t see it that way anymore.” Mike fully faced Vincent, his chest pressed against the side of the bed. He stood there silently, watching the man for his eyes to turn to them. Once purple tinted eyes contacted blue one, they never parted. Mike could see the darkness swelling in the eyes, consuming the once tender soft gaze. 

Vincent opened his mouth to say—more than likely, a snarky remark—but was silenced by Mike interrupting, “I’m going to only repeat myself once more.” He leaned forward, his face inches away from the other man’s face, “What did you do with Vincent?” 

The hospitalized man hummed, tilting his head gently to the side, a miniscule grin creeping up, “Straightforward—so different than before. Perhaps you have grown up little Mikey,” Vinc chuckled, pinching Mike on the cheek. Ignoring the glare, he received from the man he continued, “Your want-to-be boyfriend is fine,” he added under his breath, “For now.” 

In a flash, the shorter man latched his hand onto the rim of the hospital gown again, forcing Vincent even closer to his face, “What do you mean ‘for now?’” At this point the tone in the man’s voice would even send the twisted spirit into a slight fear—if not for the fact it had completely lost it, “You do anything to him and I fucking swear!” 

“Now, now: don’t swear too much little Schmidt,” Vincent mocked him with the grin growing larger, “You’ll start turning into a foul mouth just like Fitzgerald.” The words flowed in a sing-song fashion, “And that would be so awful for your little innocent mouth to get soiled like that.” 

“I have already been soiled for kissing you…” Mike mumbled, rubbing his lips with the back of his free hand, trying to wash away the memory tingling on his soft skin from the kiss. 

“Oh but you really just kissed the boy,” the possessed man mused, “Was it really that bad—I thought that’s what you wanted!” He let out a loud menacing laugh, lowing his head so their noses barely touched. 

“I would have enjoyed it more if it was actually Vincent and not you after you hijacked his body and did so to mock me!” 

The possessed man leaned his head back, chortling to himself, “What difference does it make? A kiss is a kiss Schmidt, and you taste of strawberries.” 

“There is a difference-” Mike paused, giving Vinc a scrunched up confused look, “What do you mean I taste like strawberries?” His mind quickly told him it might have been a good idea to back away before the crazy bastard tried something else. 

A moment before Mike could move, Vincent leaned in, slowly licking Mike from the tip of his nose all the way to his forehead. He leaned forward, lifting a hand to run through Mike’s short black hair. The grin widened on his face, softly whispering into Mike’s ear, “ _He’s inside me…_ ” 

The fingers gently ran through the hair, Vinc tilting his head to the side, “But don’t worry little Mikey, he’s going to be perfectly fine. I take good care of my little children…” As the last words slipped from his lips, Vincent’s body began to go limp, his hand falling from Mike’s hair. It fell to the side of the bed, dangling off the edge. 

“F-fuck…” Mike held his breath, blue eyes wide with concern and dread, “Vincent?!” He shook the man’s shoulders, checking for a pulse and then the eyes. Blue. Back to the normal blue. 

His whole body relaxed, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. It was over. A dreadful thought came to his mind: it’s over for now; that bastard would not leave poor Vinc alone until he was killed. 

That made up Mike’s mind: Tomorrow, he’d figure out how the kill the bastard once and for all—and he knew just the souls that knew how to.


End file.
